Howlin' For You
by captainofswans
Summary: Killian is the star lacrosse player, hoping to lead a group of ragtag boys (the Lost Boys) to victory. Killian unexpectedly runs into school journalist Emma Swan at a game-literally-and his world gets flipped on its axis. She meets (possibly exceeds) his wit, she's fiesty, and she's beautiful. Killian doesn't quite know what to do with her. (CS AU)
1. Rough Waters Ahead

_A/N: Okay, so this story is something a little different than what I usually write—I think it's still very much my style, though. I really have enjoyed writing this one, and was actually inspired by both the Quidditch World Cup (which, ironically enough, my favorite team, the LA Lost Boys, were playing at!) and a little bit of my own college experience so far._

_Anyways, I listened to quite a bit of the Black Keys to get this story started, which is, incidentally, where I got the title of this story from! Enjoy!_

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><p>A persistent buzz vibrated the bed, accompanied by a quiet alarm. Tired, lazy fingers tapped the sheets until they found the source of the noise, shutting it off with a sigh.<p>

Killian Jones was not ready to greet the day. Not after the taxing game they'd had the night before. Lacrosse was a rough game, and as much as Killian adored it, the games were tolling. He knew they had to keep winning, though—they couldn't make it as far as they did the year prior, only to falter again. Killian was not going to let that happen again.

His phone started buzzing again, causing him to groan as he sat up and ran his fingers through his unruly, bed-head hair.

"_Jones, where are you? Class starts in ten minutes!"_ A familiar voice exclaimed through the phone. Killian's eyes widened as he looked to his clock, reading the time. Sure enough, ten minutes to nine.

"Bloody hell." Killian groaned, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, "August, I can't get ready in ten. Just, uh, give me the notes later, yeah?"

"_Killian, you can't keep skipping class_." August chided, and Killian could almost see the distressed look on his face. August always seemed to have that look on his face when Killian messed up. He was a year older than Killian, having been on the lacrosse team both years, so it was akin to having an older brother always on his back.

"C'mon, you know this is the only one I skip. And, I've only skipped it, like, twice." Killian replied with a shrug, though he knew his friend couldn't see it.

He heard an exasperated sigh on the other line, making him smile.

"You going to practice tonight?" Killian asked as he slipped off his bed, stretching.

_"Really, Jones? Changing the subject?"_

"I'm practiced." Killian smiled with a yawn, "Besides, couldn't leave the Lost Boys, well, lost, now could I?"

August let out another sigh, and Killian knew he was pinching the bridge of his nose. That made him smile a little.

_"Killian, you're an ass." _August said, earning a laugh from Killian, _"But, yes, I am coming to practice."_

Practice for the Lost Boys was always interesting, since none of the boys really took anything too seriously. The year before definitely, but not anymore. With Killian as the Team Captain now, they were rarely on task-however, that didn't stop them from being some of the best. They worked together as if they were some sort of machine. It was laughable that they were so good (and consistently so), yet they rarely practiced seriously.

Killian frequently had the boys running drills and conditioning exercises, but none of the guys could do any kind of activity without drifting from task. Still, they managed to win consistently and usually by killing the other team. Their hardworking the previous year seemingly paid off.

"Ready for our next game tomorrow night?" Killian asked, pressing the speakerphone button and tossing his phone on the bed.

"_Yeah, I'm still a little sore_." August replied as Killian tugged a shirt over his head with a wince. The back muscles didn't like that one.

"I feel ya, mate." Killian chuckled, "I can't even put a bloody shirt on without my body screaming for help."

There was silence on the line for a moment, followed by muffled noises.

"_Hey, I gotta go. I'll see you at practice then?_" August spoke in almost a whisper.

"Sure thing. Bring the notes, yeah?" Killian asked, grinning as August sighed yet again.

_"Fine."_

"You're the best!" Killian exclaimed, hurrying to the bed and hanging up.

He walked back to his closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and tugging them on. At least those were easier than his shirt. He pulled his favorite hoodie over his head, the hoodie that bore his team's symbol on the front, and his number and last name on the back. Just as he adjusted it, there was a knock at his door.

"Who is it?" Killian called as he paced back to his side table to grab his watch.

"Just me." His friend, Graham, called back.

"You've got to be more specific than that, I'm afraid!" Killian teased, hurrying to the door and opening it.

Graham was another Lost Boy, and one of the better players on the team. He'd played all throughout high school, so he came onto the field the previous year knowing more than most of the other players did. He was their goalie, and arguably (or perhaps not) the best in the region.

Graham had a typical lacrosse player build-he was tall and lean in the torso, but his biceps were quite a sight to see. His thick, curly hair was usually cut short to keep it from flopping in his face and out of his dark blue eyes. Killian liked him pretty well-the two almost immediately hit it off on the first day of practice between their Irish accents, and it was a bond that hadn't been broken yet.

"What do you need, Humbert?" Killian smiled, leaning on the door frame, earning a raise of an eyebrow from Graham. Killian never understood how his friends dealt with his cockiness.

"Not much, just checking to see that we had practice tonight." Graham said.

"Of course we do." Killian spoke slowly, narrowing his eyes, "That is definitely not why you came down here."

Graham sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.

"Okay, fine." He sighed, his eyes looking a bit desperate, "I need your help."

"Anything." Killian smiled, slipping past him and walking to plop onto the futon in their common area. Graham sat next to him with a little bit more grace.

"I'm not doing great in my Economics class." He spoke quickly in almost a whisper.

"Yeah, so?" Killian asked, "I'm not really the person to come to if-"

"Gold said he'll kick anyone off the team if they don't pull the grade up by the end of the month." Graham said clearly, making Killian's eyes widen.

Gold was the President of the Sports Club Council for the university and made sure all of the clubs (and their team members) stayed in line. The man had a penchant for appearing at the absolute worse times, usually when someone was in jeopardy with their grades or just life, and made 'deals'. Killian hadn't been trapped in one yet, but if Graham was being serious, he feared he might just find himself in one of these deals soon.

"What?"

"He said it at the last Sports Club meeting-wait, you weren't there, were you?" Graham asked, then sighed as Killian continued to stare at him, "Apparently not."

"Wait, seriously?" Killian asked, "Gold said that?"

"Yeah, and he sounded pretty serious about it." Graham said.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"My stupid Creative Writing grade is sinking, too. I'm supposed to be there now, but I'm not-shit." Killian sighed. He rubbed his hands down his face, then through his still-messy hair, his eyes closed in frustration.

"We better both find tutors, then." Graham sighed, looking to him, "You really didn't know, did you?"

"Of course I didn't know. I rarely go to those stupid meetings." Killian reminded him.

"I know." Graham said, rising to his feet, "Don't take this the wrong way-"

"Oi, a great way to start a sentence." Killian interrupted with a groan.

"-You're kind of letting your team down, Kill. You're a great guy, Killian, but... You'll let us down if you get kicked off the team." Graham spoke with honesty, "We need our leader."

Killian knew he was right. He was the leader, the Captain-there had to be some way to evade this. If Killian was good at just one thing, it was being evasive.

"I'll work on it, okay?" Killian said, "I'll fix this."

"I hope you can." Graham spoke with what Killian thought was a hint of sadness. His friend offered a flat smile before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.

This was not good. At all.

Killian finished getting ready, pouring himself a cup of coffee that his roommate, Jefferson, had made earlier that morning. He couldn't stop thinking about what Graham said: _'You'll let us down'. _That hurt. He knew it was true, but Killian didn't like to think about ever leaving his beloved Lost Boys. They were his best friends, his family-he couldn't let them down. He wouldn't let them down.

But, not letting them down meant he had to actually do well in his horrible Creative Writing course. That wasn't going to be an easy feat at all, and he was all too aware of that. He had to find a way out.

Wait, why was he worrying? He was Killian Jones, for God's sake-he was the King of Bullshit and Evading Issues. He could do this with his hands tied behind his back.

Hopefully.


	2. Monday Mornings

_A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! Now, we'll get a glimpse into the life of Emma, who may or may not be anything like Killian._

_Well, their mornings are different, that much is for sure._

_I listened to a lot of KT Tunstall writing this one, namely 'Suddenly I See', which, if you listen to that while you're reading this, it begins to feel like Devil Wears Prada._

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><p>Blond curls blocked the sun from her eyes as her alarm went off. Emma tried her hardest to wake up, but it was going to take something stronger than the sun. Luckily, she still had at least an hour and a half before her class actually started-Emma simply liked being early.<p>

So, she pushed herself up by her elbows, leaning over and pressing the button on her alarm clock. She checked her phone for messages, only seeing an email from some website she didn't remember giving her email to.

She quickly slipped out of bed, her feet landing on the plush rug she was glad she bought. She padded to her iHome, snapping her phone in place and pressing play.

Emma walked by her dresser, grabbing the outfit she laid out before trekking across their common area towards the bathroom. None of her other roommates were awake yet, it seemed, making her smile and shake her head. Of course not. Though, she was a bit surprised by the fact that Mary Margaret wasn't awake.

Mary was her best friend, and had been since the first day of high school. They were partnered together for a Biology project, and they immediately hit it off. Mary was a bit different than Emma, much girlier than Emma. She loved fashion, she loved pastel colors, dresses, small animals, the like. But, nonetheless, she was really Emma's first best friend, and she wouldn't trade her for anything. She was lucky enough to get a scholarship to go to the same university as Mary-she didn't know what to do without her.

After Emma was all dressed, she walked back to their kitchen to start making some tea. She usually wasn't one for the stuff, but there was a significant absence of her favorite coffee. She made a mental note to run to the campus store later.

"Emma, you're up early, as usual." Mary's voice called from behind her as Emma had just finished putting the small cup into their coffee maker. She turned and smiled to Mary, leaning against the counter now.

"Oh, hush. I'm surprised I was up before-"

Emma stopped herself mid-sentence as she tried not laughing at David ducking out of her room, his face bright red.

"Morning, David." Emma smiled.

"Morning, Emma." David spoke with a quick smile before kissing Mary's cheek before hurrying out their front door. Emma immediately turned to Mary with a smile and raised brow, causing her cheeks to redden.

"Don't ask."

"Wasn't going to." Emma grinned as the coffee maker beeped. She turned on her heel, smiling as Mary came up beside her, reaching over and grabbing a cereal box from the counter.

"How'd you sleep last night?" Mary asked, smiling sheepishly as she poured herself a bowl of cereal.

"Just fine." Emma smiled, "I'm just not ready for a Monday morning."

"Is anyone?" Mary laughed, tossing her head back. Emma chuckled, shaking her head at her friend. She poured her tea into a mug, smiling before bringing it to her lips.

"Mm. That's pretty good." Emma grinned, "But, not as delicious as my usual coffee."

"That's why I always keep back up, Ems." Mary laughed, reaching up into a cabinet and pulling out a new box of the small coffee cups. Mary was always sort of a mother figure to Emma.

"Ah, you are the best, Mary." Emma beamed, taking them and wasting no time to open the box and plopping a cup into the coffee maker and waiting. She was about to toss the tea down the sink before Mary snatched it from her hands with a 'tsk'.

"No need to waste it-I'll drink it." Mary grinned, bringing the mug to her lips. Emma smiled as she waited for her coffee to finish, watching Mary Margaret walk over to the couch with her tea and cereal. An odd combination, Emma noted.

But, Mary was a bit odd herself. Maybe not odd. Unique was probably a better word. Emma had always known her that way, and she wouldn't have changed it if she could. Mary was an Art major, hoping to slip into the fashion industry after her time at college. And, David always said she could do it, that he just knew she would.

They were sickeningly cute.

According to legend, Mary and David had virtually known each other since birth. They grew up together, but David's family moved away when he was seven. The two didn't really keep in touch (what seven year-old had a phone or computer anyway? Though, she supposed, it was the 21st century), so they grew apart. But, of course, fate-as Mary called it-brought them together again when David moved back. David said he took one look at Mary on the first day of high school and knew she was the one he was going to marry.

Their story was a bit too sappy for Emma.

The coffee maker beeped again, causing Emma to jump out of her daydream. She hurriedly poured some of the warm caffeine into a different mug, smiling widely as she brought it to her lips.

"Much better." She smiled, moving over to the couch to sit beside her best friend, "That's quite the combo you've got there."

Mary shot her a glare that only lasted a few milliseconds before she was giggling. Typical Mary, couldn't stay mad longer than a few seconds. Emma bumped her shoulder with a smile, teasing her further.

"You know I'm just poking fun at you."

"You've always been good at that." Mary grinned, eating some of her cereal.

"I guess I have." Emma spoke with a mischievous smile.

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><p>The day was absolutely dragging. Emma was sure she was going to die from sheer exhaustion and boredom. Something wasn't allowing her to focus like she needed to, and that frustrated her more than anything.<p>

So, to remedy the problem, Emma went to the coffee shop on campus and ordered herself another cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin. It had almost become routine-she even sat in the same booth every time she went (which was frequent).

"Swan?" A familiar voice asked from behind her. She turned in her seat, smiling when she saw Graham.

Graham was one of the few people she quickly made friends with when she got to university, having been in the same Intro to Psychology course. Graham was quiet, like Emma, so they immediately and naturally clicked. He was a sweetheart, too. He held open doors, pulled out seats, helped her with work-a true gentleman. She knew he was on some sports team, but she wasn't good at remembering exactly which one-which, in retrospect, made her feel kind of bad. She had promised to see one of his games (matches?).

"Hey, Graham." Emma smiled as he set his bag down, then sat across from her, "Are you done with classes?"

"Afraid not. I've one more before the day's out." He explained, "Then I have practice later."

Emma nodded, taking a sip of her coffee.

"What about you, Emma?" He questioned, meeting her eyes. She thought she felt her cheeks redden, but maybe it was just her mind making things up.

"I just started," She spoke with a wistful sigh, holding up two fingers, "One down, two to go."

Graham smiled, offering a nod. Emma searched his eyes for a sign, knowing something was bothering him. She didn't want to prod too much.

"We have a game tomorrow night-do you think you could come?" Graham asked.

That's what was bothering him. He wanted to ask her to go to his game.

Emma took a deep breath, leaning back against the seat of the booth, offering a smile as she racked her brain for the sport he played. It was definitely outdoors, and it required a ball... And a net? She knew he was the goalie, and that it was a rec sport, not one of the school's official teams, but it had a pretty big following from what he'd told her...

"It's our second home game this season-we're playing a team I've never heard of. One of the guys on the team said that they play rough with their sticks, though." Graham said, making the light bulb over Emma's head turn on.

Sticks. Lacrosse. Of course.

"You know what? I actually think my editor wants me to write an article on you guys." Emma said, thinking back to the previous week, when Mrs. Mills, the editor of the school paper, was giving out tasks.

She knew it was some sports team she had to write a column on, but she couldn't place exactly which one. She was nearly positive it was lacrosse, though. Part of her hoped it was—at least she'd be able to support her friend and get something done for the paper, killing two birds with one stone. A win-win, right?

"Really?"

Emma had never seen Graham's face light up that fast. She laughed as she nodded, hoping that she was right.

"I think so. I'll have to check my assignment again, but I'm nearly positive that I have to write a column on the lacrosse team." Emma said, taking another sip of her coffee as Graham beamed.

"Well, let me know-if love to see you out there!" Graham spoke happily, happier than Emma had ever seen him.

"I will let you know as soon as I know." Emma giggled, checking her watch, "Oh, shit, I have class. I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

"Sure thing, Swan." Graham smiled as she rose from her seat.

Emma waved one last time as she walked away, tossing her muffin wrapper into the trash. She hurried out to her bike, hoping she wouldn't be late to her most important class-Journalism.


	3. Meet the Lost Boys

_A/N: Hello, all! Hopefully this story is still keeping your interest! It's a slow burn, but I promise, just you wait ;)_

_Also, as a little side note, I'm usually try to keep my FF as up-to-date as my Tumblr, but I've been terrible at keeping up this week. So, if you get a lot of FF notifications from me this weekend... Sorry._

_Anyways, listened to 'Highway to Hell' by ACDC, 'Lucky Strike' by Maroon 5, & 'The Whip' by Locksley for this chapter! Enjoy!_

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><p>Killian surely had an eventful day. Not.<p>

Every one of his classes (minus the first one he skipped) seemed to move at a glacial pace, and he had to really try not to fall asleep. All of his professors decided to assign all the work they could for the next week as they possibly could, the work piling up with each class. He felt like a tidal wave was going to topple him over. He didn't have time for stupid core requirement classes.

And it wasn't that he wasn't smart enough, either. He scored high on tests, which usually saved his ass in courses. Killian was smart, he was just lazy and haughty—a terrible combination.

A smile found its way onto Killian's lips as he walked towards the practice field. Most of his teammates were already there and warming up, some checking their phones. He was impressed that the field was already set up and ready to go—usually, they spent the first fifteen minutes of practice setting up the nets and boundaries, let alone warming up.

"Hey, look who's finally here!" Jefferson-one of Killian's roommates-shouted.

Jefferson Hatter was a weird one. Killian wasn't sure that he was entirely there, earning him the nickname of Mad Hatter. His mousy brown hair stuck up in all directions, never tamed. His piercing blue eyes were a bit terrifying, if Killian were to be honest. But, he mad for a good roommate, and a good mate in general. He was incredibly loyal, and didn't take any kind of shit from anyone. Dude was incredibly protective of his friends (yes, that involved a few bar fights).

He was crazy on the field, though, and managed to grab the ball out of midair with ease. He was easily one of the best midfield players on the team-Killian would venture to say in the state. Some of the catches he made were physically impossible, and usually left both his own team and the other team entirely confused. Jefferson was something else.

"Aye, lads, I'm here-you can all sigh with relief now." Killian spoke with a teasing smile, earning a couple of laughs and pats on the back.

"I have something for you," August sighed, handing Killian a pile of papers. Killian took them with a grin, patting his friend on the back.

"Always knew you'd come through for me." He grinned.

"Killian, I can't keep doing this. You've gotta start taking control of your life if you want to stay on the team." August spoke in a low whisper in a grave tone. Killian smiled in response, to mask his worry.

"All's well. I know what I'm doing." Killian grinned, stepping away from his friend.

He swaggered out onto the field, motioning for his team to gather around him, his arms above his head. They all hurried over to their captain without a second thought, cheering already.

"We have an important game tomorrow night, do we not?" He shouted, smiling at his team's loud response, "I don't know much about this team we're up against, but I do know two things!"

Killian adored being the leader of this group of ragtag boys, knowing they'd earned their title of Lost Boys. There was a sort of rush of adrenaline as the team got all pumped up before a game (even if it was twenty-four hours before), a wave of energy flowing through them.

"One: they play really dirty, with lots of stick-hitting, tripping. They don't care about calls-they'll try to make us foul out." Killian shouted, a smirk gracing his lips as he started the next sentence, "And two: we are going to kick their asses into next week, do you know why?"

"We're lost boys!" The team collectively shouted.

"Damn right we are!" Killian yelled, "And what don't lost boys do?"

"Take shit from anyone!" Jefferson answered.

"That's right!" Killian laughed, pointing to his friend, "We don't care about them because we are going to get on that field tomorrow and show them who owns this turf!"

The boys all did their signature yell-screech, breaking the huddle. Killian smiled and glanced around before calling out the drill for the day.

"We have to work on some passing-we are so fucking close to perfection, and knowing where we all are on the field. We almost have one-hundred percent accuracy!" Killian smiled, "Divide into two teams-defense on the left, offense on the right."

"No fun today, Captain?" August teased, nudging his shoulder and earning a whack from Killian. August chuckled, hitting him back before pulling his practice helmet over his head.

"I never said no fun." Killian snickered, grabbing his stick and whacking August's back with it before jogging over to the left side of the field.

As Team Captain, Killian could orchestrate this however he pleased. So, he decided to switch things up.

"Actually, change of plans, boys," He spoke with raised brows, "We're going to try a new drill."

His teammates looked to each other in confusion, then to their leader.

"Line up in three lines. This is how we're doing it today." Killian grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Jones, what the fuck are we doing?" Victor asked, exasperated already from Killian's shenanigans as he obediently got into a line.

"Just get in line, boys." Killian smiled, standing in front of the net and settling his hands on his hips.

"Alright, boys!" Killian shouted, grabbing his stick, "You're going to try and get past me."

The boys all looked around with furrowed brows, unsure of what Killian was doing. Killian rolled his eyes. Of course they didn't trust what he was doing.

"Is there a problem?" He snapped, raising a brow when no one answered, "If not, shoot."

Graham took a cautious step forward, glancing to his sides as two more players followed suit.

"Well, come on, lads. We've only an hour on this field, and we're working on passing for that whole hour!" Killian shouted, bending at his knees and preparing for the onslaught.

Well, if his damn teammates would move up.

"Come on, guys!" Killian shouted, his frustration finally showing through, "Don't be afraid to, you know, really get into it!"

Graham raised an eyebrow as he moved closer, testing the waters. Killian smirked at him, motioning for him to come closer. His eyes burned with passion, hoping the guys would stop stalking around like they were fucking Bambi and just attack him already.

Graham passed back to one of the other teammates, who took it closer, quicker. Killian shifted his stance a little, psyching the player out. He threw back to Graham, who ran up to Killian and tried shooting, only to get knocked to the ground by Killian.

"How—"

"You ought to know by now that just because you're taller than me doesn't mean you can best me, Humbert." Killian grinned, holding out a hand for his friend. Graham took it with a smile, rising to his feet with the help of Killian. The leader gave him a pat on the back as he walked back to the end of the line.

"So," Killian smiled, defensively standing in front of the goal, "Who's next?"

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><p>After practice had ended, Killian and the boys were exhausted, and starving. So, naturally, that called for a pizza night at Killian's.<p>

He walked from his room into the common area to find his closest friends perched all over the place. Killian loved having his teammates over, even if it was a small space. Just seeing all of them smile, relax, laugh—it was something Killian hated to admit that he loved.

Jefferson was in the corner, strumming his ukulele, playing some tune that no one seemed to mind, as it filled the silence between words. August sat perched on the edge of the couch, chewing a bite of probably his third piece of pizza as he choked on a laugh. There was Graham sitting on the couch, reading some book (god, really?), yet keeping up with the conversation regardless. Phillip, the new kid, was sitting in one of the beanbag chairs, smiling and nodding at whatever August was laughing about. Victor, one of the midfield players, was too busy chewing to talk, yet interjected into the conversation anyways.

These were Killian's men, his best friends, and he wouldn't trade them for anything. They were his family that he never quite had.

As soon as he walked into the room, the boys all cheered his name, making him laugh and steal a spot on the floor, right next to the pizza box.

"I cannot believe that none of you bested me today." Killian grinned, grabbing a slice of pizza, "Are you all scared for tomorrow?"

"I don't know if I'd say scared…" August smirked, earning a whack to the leg.

"You lads were not coming close to me at all. I think we need to work on that." Killian chuckled, "Hopefully we'll play better tomorrow."

"We just didn't want to beat up on our Cap'n before the big game, that's all." Jefferson teased with a Cheshire smile as he kept strumming.

"Uh huh, sure," Killian nodded, taking another bite, "You keep thinking that, Mad Hatter."

Killian smiled and closed his eyes as he fell out of the conversation. Something about the sound of all of their voices made him feel truly at home. He'd only known these guys for a year and a half, but he didn't know what he did without them. The team was his family, his rock, his home.

Home was a weird and difficult word for Killian. He'd never really had it before he had the team. His parents both left when he was pretty young, leaving him and his brother to their own devices. They bounced around from city to city, never staying anywhere longer than a year or two. When his older brother, Liam, turned seventeen, they decided to live in LA. Liam, he supposed, was the closest he had to home before the team, then.

"Thinking, Jones?" August teased, "Don't want to get those gears going too hard."

"Ha, ha, hilarious." Killian spoke with a fake laugh, shooting him (what the other guys called) his death glare, "When do I ever think?"

"True!" Graham called, raising a hand and pointing.

"I don't know, you looked pretty pensive." Jefferson spoke with his lips tugged into a large smile again, his shoulders nearly touching his ears.

"Whatever, lads. I'm not thinking about anything, you can bet your asses on it." Killian laughed, wiping his mouth with a paper towel (since they were too college-kid poor to buy actual napkins).

"So, here's the real question: been with any ladies lately, Jones?" Victor asked, making all the guys cat-call as Killian laughed.

God, he hadn't had sex in a while. Why did the guys have to bring that up? The last time he could think of was a few weeks prior, with some chick he'd met at a party. He didn't even remember her name. Did it start with an 'A'? He thought it did, but he wasn't sure. Either way, it didn't matter. She was a firecracker.

He wondered for a split second if he still had her number, only to remember that he wasn't one to repeat.

"Alas, I have not." Killian sighed, reaching for another slice, "I haven't found a good fit yet."

The boys cackled at the accidental innuendo, making Killian laugh, too, after he realized what he'd said. He wasn't even going to apologize for that one. It was just too good.

"Well, you'd better find one fast before someone steals your title." Graham chuckled.

"Yeah? And who do we think is going to do that?" Killian grinned proudly, "C'mon, really? I've had more women in the past year than any of you have had in your whole lives."

A roar of 'oh's rang through the room, making Killian laugh. The lads knew him too well. He was their leader, after all.


	4. Life's a Beach

_A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm going to apologize in advance—from here on out, the chapters are probably going to get longer. But, they'll be action-packed, full of interesting confrontations (sure, that's a safe way to put it)!_

_Listened to Mumford & Sons writing this chapter! Enjoy!_

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><p>Emma plopped into her seat with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. Reaching for a pen in her bag, she glanced around. She was the first person in the classroom (shocking), including her professor. The professor happened to be the editor of the paper she wrote for—Regina Mills.<p>

Mrs. Mills wasn't much older than her students—probably late twenties, early thirties. She was harsh, though, and usually expected a lot from both her students and her journalists. Mrs. Mills liked Emma well enough, though, since Emma genuinely put effort into her columns and essays. She was one of the few.

"Shocking that you were the first in here." Mrs. Mills drawled as she clicked into the room. Emma glanced up, offering a quick smile.

"I tend not to get surprised about it anymore." Emma spoke with a shrug.

"You're an odd one, Swan." Mrs. Mills replied, setting her bag down on the desk at the front of the room.

Emma sighed again, raising a brow in agreement. She had always been the odd one out. It never really bothered her—she was in and out of foster homes for years. She was doomed to be an outcast. The thing about Emma, though, is that she tried her very hardest to just ignore it. Like shoving all of her memories of it into a box and putting it under her bed. Metaphorically, that is.

"Emma!" Ruby, her other suitemate, called out.

Emma turned to see her best friend in all red (it was just her color, God, Emma), even down to the streaks in her hair. The girl had legs, she had to hand it to her, legs with a pair of way too short shorts on her. Ruby had a tight, black tank on, paired with a red leather jacket that looked way too familiar (Emma would kill her for that later).

Ruby was quite literally Emma's polar opposite. She loved being in the limelight, loved going out to parties and getting absolutely, black-out drunk, whereas Emma would rather only take a few shots and dance a little. Ruby was always applying her bright red lipstick, talking about some guy she met the night before and swore he was her 'soul mate'. She claimed she had a sixth sense for that kind of thing. Emma just kind of went with it, knowing that it was a moot point to argue.

"Hey, Ruby." Emma smiled as she sat beside her.

"Of course you were the first in here." Ruby teased, setting her things on her desk.

"What can I say? I don't like being late." Emma replied, tapping her pen on her notebook.

"Of course not." Ruby grinned, "Couldn't miss out on your favorite class."

"Also, the most important class for my major, mind you." Emma added as more people started filling in the desks.

"Yeah, I know." Ruby smiled, "Still don't know how you got me to sign up for this, Ems."

Emma hated that nickname. She tried arguing Ruby on it once, and that didn't end well for either of them. But, she still called Ruby out on it occasionally, when she was in the mood. Today wasn't one of those days.

"I'm your best friend, that's how." Emma smirked, "You did say you wanted to take a class with me this semester."

Ruby's eyes rolled back, a smile still fighting her lips. Emma knew she loved her.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ruby laughed loudly, "I did say that."

"See? I'm always right."

"Oh, I beg to differ." Ruby gasped, "You must remember—"

"Alright, get settled in—we're getting started a little early today, due to the amount of material we have to cover today." Mrs. Mills spoke loudly enough to silence the room.

While groans erupted in the room, Emma sighed with relief. She didn't even want to know where Ruby was taking her sentence.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Ruby and I are about to head to the beach and meet David there," Mary said, standing in Emma's doorframe, "Want to tag along?"<p>

Emma glanced up from her computer, offering her friend a smile. She did love a good beach trip. They were only about thirty minutes from the beach (it would be fifteen if there wasn't so much traffic), but they still didn't go as often as Emma would have liked.

"Sure, I'll come." Emma smiled, "Just give me a minute to get ready."

"We're leaving in ten!" Mary grinned, shutting the door.

Emma smiled at her friend, slipping off of her bed and padding to her dresser. She pulled open the second drawer, pursing her lips as she tried to decide on a swimsuit to wear. Emma finally decided on her azure suit, knowing that her light tan would look nice with it. Not that she was trying to please anyone. She just liked feeling pretty some days.

She stripped of her clothes before pulling on her bikini and looking in the mirror. She smiled at the image it returned.

"You almost ready, Ems?" Ruby asked through the door as she made some annoying tapping.

"Give me a second, I just have to tie my bathing suit." Emma called back, tying a bow behind her head. She pulled a pair of beach shorts on, then hurried to her door, grabbing her beach bag on the way out.

"Ooh la, la!" Ruby beamed, clapping her hands together. She stood in a skimpy, white pullover dress with lacey accents, her red bikini absolutely see-through under it.

"Oh, hush. It's not like I've never been in a bikini before." Emma smiled.

"I know. You just aren't one to show off a lot of skin, that's all." Ruby grinned, "Well, we'd better head down, Mary's waiting in the car for us."

Emma smiled at the thought of her little yellow bug she'd, ahem, stolen, a few years prior. The memories that came with stealing the car, however, made her wince a little.

"Let's get going, then." Emma spoke with a fake smile, trying to suppress the painful memories of broken promises.

Emma followed Ruby out of the apartment, locking it behind herself and again followed Ruby down the stairs. She was rambling about something, but Emma couldn't bother to listen. It was about one of three things: sex, clothes, or make up. She had an inkling it was about the first.

"Emma, are you even listening?" Ruby asked as they approached her car. Emma noticed it was already running, and Mary was sitting in the passenger seat.

"Yeah, mm, I'm always listening, Ruby." Emma grinned, opening her car door and slipping in. Mary took her beach bag with a smile, setting it on the floor.

"That's a cute swimsuit!" She beamed, "When did you get that?"

When did she get it? Hm, her days were blurring together.

"Uh, not sure. Recently, though." Emma shrugged, looking behind her headrest to back out of her parking spot.

"Oh, turn this song up!" Ruby exclaimed as Emma started driving out of the lot. She hadn't even realized that the radio was on until Mary turned it up, per Ruby's demand. Wow, Swan, losing it, much?

"This song?" Emma asked, scrunching her nose up in disgust. It wasn't a terrible song, but it definitely wasn't her favorite. It was a little too loud for her tastes.

"What's wrong with this song? It's a great song!" Ruby beamed, draping herself dramatically over the seat, "Besides, you listen to whatever that band is."

"I didn't say it was a bad song, it's just not my type of song." Emma replied. How dare she insult her favorite band!

(Not that Ruby hadn't done it a million times before.)

"And, hey, don't hate on Mumford and Sons." Emma spoke, glaring through the rearview mirror.

"Oh, hey, this is the song they play at the lacrosse games!" Mary pointed out.

Great. She'd have to endure that, too?

"Oh, great. I have to go tomorrow to write a damn column on it." Emma sighed, leaning her head on the wheel as she stopped at a light, "I don't know anything about it."

"I think maybe Ms. Mills wants you to expand your horizons a little?" Mary suggested, "You tend to write really angry articles about how women are treated terribly by men, or something like that."

"I do not."

The audacity of her friends sometimes.

"Girl, your last column was about how the fraternities at this school should be 'eradicated'." Ruby laughed, fake quotes and everything.

"It's not my fault they're a bunch of pigs."

"And, don't forget about the article about how too many people are uneducated about the law."

"That's the raw truth." Emma spoke flatly.

"You know, most journalists don't tell the truth." Mary teased.

"Lies." Emma retorted, "There are plenty of journalists who tell the truth."

"Whatever you say, Ems." Ruby grinned.

"I'm surprised traffic isn't so bad today." Emma spoke coolly, changing the subject as she accelerated through a light.

"Terrible transition, Emma." Ruby laughed.

"What? I'm commenting on the usually-terrible LA traffic, and how it's unusually not terrible." Emma shrugged.

"Whatever, girl. Just get us to the beach."

"Working on it." Emma replied.

The more she thought about Ruby's words, the more she realized that maybe her friend was right. Maybe she was becoming too harsh, too cynical.

Wait, since when did she care about what other people thought? She knew her work was good—Mrs. Mills always commented on how wonderfully written her columns were. She knew Mary and Ruby were just joking, but her writing was something important to her. And, Emma would write it however she damn pleased.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaimed.

Emma hadn't even realized that they'd made it. She smiled regardless, pulling into a parking lot and into one of the spots. Ruby and Mary bolted out of the car as soon as it was parked, and Emma watched Mary run to David, who was standing on the beach. She watched her tackle him from behind, and Emma could hear their laughter.

David loved Mary in a way Emma didn't understand. It was like she was his whole world, and nothing else really mattered. When they were together, it was like everything else fell away.

She wanted that. Wait, what? No, she didn't.

Emma broke from her thoughts to finally get out of the car, snatching her bag from the passenger side and slipping out of her seat. She locked her car before sauntering to the beach, smiling as soon as she felt the warm sand between her toes. Cliché, much, Swan? She couldn't believe herself today. She was definitely not herself.

"Hey, Emma!" David beamed, and with that, his arms were wrapped around her. Emma grinned and hugged him back.

David was kind of like an older brother to her. She'd only known him for a few years, but she wished she would have had someone like him her whole life. He was incredibly sweet and always protective. Emma could never be afraid of anything when he was around, knowing he would do anything to make sure she was alright.

His sandy blond hair nearly matched hers, causing many people to mistake them for siblings. Emma was kind of okay with that assumption.

"How are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good." Emma laughed, tugging away, "And you?"

"Doing well," David smiled, then rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry about this morning."

Emma tried her hardest to not to laugh at the blush appearing on his cheeks, failing miserably. She doubled over in laughter, not at all meeting his eyes. After a few moments of laughing over his adorable embarrassment, Emma stood up straight and covered her mouth, hiding her smile.

"Sorry. It was really funny." Emma smiled, nodded after David did in a mocking way.

"Uh huh." David chuckled, "C'mon, the water feels awesome today, and you're coming in."

"Oh, no, Dave—"

Without further protest, David tugged her towards the water as Mary and Ruby cheered him on. Emma laughed, finally giving up her protests and followed him into the warm water. Yes, she was going to relax for once.


	5. Game Time

_A/N: Sorry about the lack of posts! To make up for it, I'll post a few chapters this week :)_

_ I promise they'll meet! Actually, it's coming sooner than you'd think ;) Hope you all are still enjoying this story!_

_For this chapter, I listened to a lot of work out-type music. 'Remember the Name' by Fort Minor, 'Timber' by Ke$ha, 'Come Get It Bae' by Pharell & 'Howlin' For You' by the Black Keys are a few that stick out._

* * *

><p>Killian woke up to the noise of voices talking in the common area. He slowly sat up, checking his phone to see that he had woken up just ten minutes before his alarm was set to go off. With a sigh, he turned the alarm off and fully sat up. He could definitely hear Jefferson talking, and if he was right, he heard Grace, too.<p>

Grace was Jefferson's younger sister. She was the sweetest thing in the world, never going a minute without a giggle or smile. Grace and Jefferson had lost their parents a few years prior, and Jefferson had admitted to Killian that he thought it was his fault.

Jefferson loved her to a fault. She stayed with their aunt who lived a short distance from their university, so she stayed on Tuesdays and Thursdays-Jefferson manipulated his schedule so that he had no classes those days.

Killian walked into the living area with a smile, spotting Grace sitting on Jefferson's knee.

"I thought I heard my favorite little girl!" Killian grinned. Grace's head whipped around with a shriek before hurrying to him and landing in his arms. Killian laughed as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, then pulled away.

"How are you, Gracie?" Killian smiled.

"I'm really good. I can't wait to see you play tonight, Killy!" Grace beamed.

"You're coming?" Killian asked incredulously, glancing to Jefferson, who grinned in return.

"Of course, Killy. I like watching Jeff and you guys play."

Killian laughed again, brushing some of her hair from her face.

"You do cheer the loudest." Killian laughed, standing up straight and walking over to sit beside Jefferson. Grace squeezed in between them, giggling when Jefferson pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

"When do you have class?" Jefferson asked.

"I thought you of all people would know my schedule by now," Killian teased, nudging Grace's arm as she giggled, "Not until noon."

"Can you eat lunch with us?" Grace asked, looking up to Killian with her huge, puppy eyes. Gods, he had no clue how anyone said no to her.

"Sure thing, Gracie." Killian smiled, noticing the braid wrapping around her head, "Who did your braid today?"

"Auntie helped me." Gracie spoke proudly, "But, I did a lot by myself."

"Wow, I'm impressed." Killian grinned, glancing to Jefferson again, who kept his eyes on little Grace.

"What do you say we get ready and get lunch in a few minutes?" Jefferson asked Gracie, then looked to Killian.

"Lunch sounds good to me. I promise I'll get ready quickly." Killian winked, smiling when Grace kissed his cheek before he stood up again.

He hurried to his room, shutting the door behind himself and walking to his closet to grab a shirt and jeans.

A smile grew on his face as he thought more about Grace being at the game and cheering them on. She had become the first honorary Lost Girl, and the boys all treated her like she was their own sister. She'd truly become part of their dysfunctional family.

Killian pulled his favorite sweatshirt over his head before quickly fixing his hair and grabbing his bookbag. He opened his door again, smiling when he saw Grace waiting impatiently by Jefferson's side.

"Are you ready to go now, Killy?" She asked, practically bouncing.

"I am!" Killian smiled as he walked towards the door.

"Let's go then, shall we?" Jefferson laughed, opening the door and allowing Grace to go first.

* * *

><p>Killian grabbed a booth for the three of them, setting his stuff down beside him and plopping down. Jefferson made his way towards the table, but Grace wasn't at his side.<p>

"Where's the munchkin?" Killian asked curiously, unwrapping his burger as Jefferson sat down.

"She's grabbing ketchup, I think." Jefferson shrugged, pulling his sandwich from the bag.

Killian smiled, noticing her chatting up one of the ladies that worked there. Jefferson furrowed his brows at Killian, then laughed when he saw Grace.

"She's going to kill someone with those eyes someday, I swear." Jefferson chuckled.

"Oh, definitely." Killian laughed, "She'll be a heartbreaker."

"Like you?"

Ouch. Shots fired by his best friend.

"Um, no." Killian said.

"Oh, okay, Mr. Let-Me-Have-Sex-With-You-Then-Never-Call-You-Back."

"Please. That's making dreams come true." Killian smirked, "Their lives are changed for the better after a taste of me."

"I'm just saying that maybe you should start thinking about sticking to one girl for a while." Jefferson spoke with a shrug.

Wow, Jefferson was just full of quips.

"Where's the fun in that?"

"I mean… Maybe you just have to believe that there's something better out there for you than this. You don't have to keep playing girls like fucking guitars, Killian." Jefferson said, and if Killian was any good at reading expressions, he'd say his friend was exasperated.

"I know I don't have to, but it's exciting, it's fresh—"

"You're lying to yourself, Killian." Jefferson spoke with finality, taking a sip of his soda.

Before Killian could even respond, Grace was prancing over. He forced a smile to her as she started talking. Killian thought about what Jefferson said. Was he right? Was he really putting up a front? He couldn't have been. He wasn't sinking that low. Not yet.

"Killian?" Grace smiled, snapping him from his inner musings.

"Oh, sorry, Gracie," Killian spoke with a forced grin, "What's up?"

"I asked if I could get a jersey." She smiled, her eyes bright with hope.

Killian honestly couldn't say no to that face.

"Sure, Grace. We'll get you your own jersey." Killian chuckled, "What number do you want on it?"

"Twenty-four!"

"Gracie, that's my number." Jefferson chuckled.

"Can I be twenty-three, then?" Grace smiled hopefully, tugging on Jefferson's sleeve, "Pretty please?"

"Twenty-three sounds like a great number, Gracie." Jefferson smiled.

"Do you like it, Killy?"

Killian couldn't help but smile at her.

"I love it." Killian smiled, "It's a good number."

If he was going to be upset, he was glad it was during lunch, and not during the game. He didn't think he could handle it if it was during the actual game.

* * *

><p>Killian had just finished tying his shoes when there was a rapping at his door.<p>

"Yeah, hold on, mate! I'll be out in a second!" Killian shouted, finishing his cleats and hurrying to the door, grabbing his lacrosse stick as he went. He opened it to see August standing there with a raised brow.

"You're cutting it close again, Jones." August noted as Killian locked his door.

"I know, I know," Killian spoke with a smile, "What are you waiting for, then?"

He hurried down the hall, skipping down the stairs with thudding footfalls. He heard August behind him as he rounded a corner and whipped the door open. He nearly ran into someone, offering a quick 'sorry, mate' before nearly running towards the lobby doors.

"Killian, wait!"

"Nah, we'll be late!" Killian shouted with a smile as he turned to see August slowly catching up. Killian continued to run as he got outside, towards the fields that weren't a far walk from the apartment building.

He sprinted towards the field, grinning like an idiot at the rush of adrenaline. He knew this would be a tough game to win, but he was determined and pumped. They weren't going to lose this one—not if Killian had anything to do with it.

"Killian!" Jefferson laughed, hurrying to greet his friend as he ran onto the field. The two did their weird handshake, causing the other players to huddle around the captain.

"Are you guys ready to dominate?" Killian shouted, earning a deafening response from his teammates.

"Let's show them who's boss!" Killian beamed at the response his team gave again, "On the count of three: one, two three—"

"LOST BOYS!" They all chanted, laughing as the huddle broke up.

"Jones, a word." A grave voice spoke from behind him. Killian whipped around, jumping back a little when he saw Mr. Gold.

Mr. Gold was the head of the Rec Sports committee, and though he wasn't directly their coach, he might as well have been. He kept an eye on the boys (probably since they weren't the most trustworthy bunch), and knew how to make one hell of a deal.

The man was terrifying, if Killian were honest. He had these dark eyes that Killian claimed bore into your soul, and nearly always wore a grave expression. The boys tried their best not to piss the man off, knowing that he would boot them off the team in an instant. Though, they all knew his patience was running thin.

"Oh, hey, Mr. Gold." Killian smiled, offering an exaggerated bow, then standing up straight when the man's stone expression didn't change, "What have I done now?"

"Well, seeing as your grades are drowning…" Gold spoke in his thick, Scottish accent, "You need a lifeboat, and quick, dearie."

"I know, I know. I, um, I need to get that grade up. I'll do it, don't you worry." Killian grinned.

"Well, we wouldn't want you kicked of the team, now would we?" Gold threatened, making Killian swallow hard.

He glanced to his friends all sharing a laugh as they pumped themselves up. Killian couldn't let them down.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'll fix it, okay?"

"You better fix it soon—you have a month to get everything straight."

"Gold, that—"

"I wouldn't test this, Jones." Gold snarled.

Killian swallowed once more with a terrified nod.

"Of course not." He offered a quick smile before the man turned on his heel and linked arms with his wife, Belle. Killian still didn't understand how he got her.

But, wow. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"What did Gold want?" August asked from behind him, causing Killian to jump again.

"God, don't scare me like that." He sighed, hand on his chest. Killian moved his hand to rub down his face before looking back to August.

"What'd he say? You look like a damn ghost." August pressed, knowing Killian was on-edge about whatever the man had just said to him. Damn him and his brotherly signals.

"Gold threatened to kick me off the team if I don't get my grades up."

August blinked a few times to comprehend before pinching the bridge of his nose like he always did.

"I can't tutor you, Killian, I tried—"

"Yeah, I know. I'll figure this out. I'm the King of Bullshit, remember?" Killian spoke with a superficial smile, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"I hope you can, Killian. We can't play without you."

Killian inhaled sharply as he nodded, clearing his throat.

"I know. I've got this." He smiled once more before hurrying to the field.

"Okay, I need starters—" Killian said, examining his team, "I'll be defense, along with August and Leroy. Graham, you're goalie, and I'll take Jefferson, Victor and Phillip on midfield. If you need a sub, you know the drill."

"Who's tipping off?"

"It's gotta be Jefferson. Jeff, get in there and get the damn ball on our side!" Killian shouted.

The starters hurried onto the field, getting into position. Killian could feel energy pulsing through his veins as a smile crept across his lips. This was going to be a good game, he could feel it—the way his fingers gripped his lacrosse stick, in the way his legs felt like they could send him a thousand miles forward in a second, the way his mind and body seemed to focus and zero-in on the field. Nothing else mattered.

The whistle sounded, and there was a clash of sticks as Jefferson recovered the ball. Killian bounced on his feet a little as he stood just behind the center line, waiting for the need to pounce.

"Hatter, shoot it!" Killian shouted.

Listening to Killian, Jefferson ran up, psyched the goalie out then shot, making it in.

"Yeah!" Killian beamed, pumping his fist into the air.

Yes, this was exactly what he needed to let off a little steam.


	6. First Impressions

_A/N: Hello! I'm sorry this chapter is kind of on the shorter side—I didn't want to drag it out just to make it longer. Hopefully the content of this chapter will… make up for the lack of words ;)_

_I listened to Marina and the Diamonds for this chapter—mainly 'Oh No!' & 'How to Be a Heartbreaker'!_

* * *

><p>Emma tugged on her boots and looked over her outfit once more before grabbing her favorite messenger bag and heading for the door.<p>

"I'm going to the lacrosse game—I'll be back later!" She called to her roommates. She got two muffled replies from their rooms, making her smile as she started down the hallway.

She still couldn't believe that this game was what Mrs. Mills sought fit for her to write on. Emma hardly knew anything about sports as it was, let alone a game that wasn't as popular as, say, football or baseball. Regardless of the sport, Emma didn't know anything about it, and she really didn't want to go.

On the flip side, she supposed, she was finally seeing Graham play, after all those times the previous year when she'd promised she would go, then never did. This was making it up to him, she guessed. Maybe the fact that he was playing would help her stay focused, or at least interested. She could at least watch him, while he played. Did they switch out? Or play the whole game?

Oh, man. Emma had a lot to learn, apparently.

She finally made it to her car, knowing well enough that she was not about to walk all the way across campus for a game. She wasn't that dedicated.

So, she started up her car and took off towards the fields. She could hear that annoying song Ruby and Mary had played in the car the day before as she neared the fields, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. Emma wasn't really sure why she didn't like it, it just made her scowl. Something about it reminded her of the cocky boyfriends (read: assholes) she'd had in the past.

Regardless, Emma turned her car off and got out, wincing a little at the sudden roar of the crowd. Something good must have happened.

"Emma!" A voice called, causing her to furrow her brows and glance around until she saw David running towards her.

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were coming!" Emma smiled, hugging him when he reached her.

"I'm only staying for a little bit—Mary needs help on something later."

"Help with what?" Emma asked curiously with a raised brow and tugging away.

"I think she said she was struggling with her Stats homework." David replied.

"I didn't know you liked math." Emma spoke with furrowed brows.

"I don't," He laughed, "But, you know I'll do anything for Mary."

"Aww." Emma giggled, bumping into his side as they walked up the hill, "I was going to say—I've known you for how many years know? I thought I'd know that by now."

"Yeah, I don't like math, I swear," David chuckled, "I'm alright at it, and hopefully good enough to help Mary."

"I'm sure you are." Emma smiled, looking up to find a spot to stand on the bleachers.

"Maybe we should try one of the lower levels." David suggested, to which Emma nodded.

"Yeah, I'm leaning towards that."

She followed him towards an empty spot, standing beside him and squinting at the field.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Emma asked, turning to David as he clapped.

"We're rooting for the Lost Boys, the ones in the red and black."

"Oh."

"They have to score down there." David pointed to the opposite end of the field, and Emma nodded.

"Got it." She spoke simply.

* * *

><p>About halfway through the game, David left to go help Mary with her math work. So, Emma stayed, continuing to jot down notes as she watched the game.<p>

She mostly followed Graham, but when he wasn't playing, she couldn't help but watch the guy in the number eleven jersey. Something about the swift, jolting movements was incredibly attractive to her. He was able to dart in and out of the other team's players like he'd done it a million times before.

Emma quickly snapped herself from that. She didn't need to be thinking about stupid lacrosse players.

The crowd erupted in cheers, causing her to look to the other side of the field (apparently they switched sides? Emma didn't follow that). Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a familiar face. A way too familiar face. She cautiously glanced over fully, swallowing hard when she realized it was him.

He smiled and cheered for the team, clapping and whooping with some new girl under his arm. Emma didn't care about that. What she cared about was why the hell he was here. She thought he'd gone somewhere else—hadn't he? He told her he was going to.

God, it didn't matter, Emma needed to get away, and fast. She couldn't risk him seeing her.

Glancing around, she saw no easy way out that didn't involve bumping into him. The only way she saw fit was going onto the field. It wasn't her best option, but it was going to just have to work.

Carefully slipping between people, muttering 'sorry' and 'excuse me' countless times, Emma finally made it onto the field. She brushed the imaginary dirt off her jeans and walked along the sideline quickly, not at all paying attention to what was going on. She could ask Graham how the game ended, making up some excuse as to why—

Ouch.

Emma felt at least two bodies on top of her, and they sure as hell were not light. She squirmed under them, trying to get out. Finally, the two guys stood up, causing her to take a deep breath and close her eyes.

"You know, normally, I prefer to do more enjoyable things to a woman on her back." A sly, Irish accent spoke coolly from above her, and for a second she thought it was Graham. Until she realized he definitely would not say that. Not to her.

She opened her eyes, only to see Number Eleven standing over her. A (perfect) smile stretched across his lips, and she was sure his eyes were a rich blue color (the light threw her off). He was holding his hand out for her, and she realized she ought to take it.

"Normally, I prefer not being tackled into the dirt." Emma scoffed as he helped her to her feet. She brushed actual dirt off her outfit, sighing when she realized she'd gotten dirt and grass stains all over her shirt.

"Sorry about that, love. Should've been more careful." Number Eleven spoke, clearly fighting a laugh.

"You think this is funny?" Emma snapped, "You men are all the same."

"Oh, no, darling. I'm not like other men at all." He spoke with a wink. Emma simply rolled her eyes and continued walking in the direction she was travelling in before he rudely ran into her.

What an asshole.


	7. Gold's Deal

_A/N: Hello, lovelies! I have no idea why, but every time I sit down to write, the Killian POV chapters end up being a lot longer than the Emma ones. Sorry about that! I'll try to make them a little more even._

_Anyways, as I wrote this chapter, I listened to a lot of random tunes, honestly. I think it was mostly Maroon 5, mainly 'Lucky Strike' & 'Kiwi' (two veeeeery sexual songs, oops). Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Killian jogged back to the bench, motioning for someone else to go in for him. He sat down on the cool bench, grabbing his water bottle and dousing his head with it. Who the hell had he just run into?<p>

"Looks like you've been told off by Miss Swan." Graham's voice spoke from behind him. Killian glanced up to him, swallowing his water.

"Swan?"

"You just bumped into Emma Swan." Graham explained, "Rather, you knocked her over."

"You know her?" Killian asked, curious.

"Yeah, she was in my Psych class last year." His friend replied, "Why?"

"Nothing. She snapped at me."

"That's Emma for you. She doesn't really, um, take to your kind of humor."

"Really? Couldn't tell." Killian chuckled, "Whatever. I probably won't see her again anytime soon."

"You never know." Graham shrugged, patting his shoulder and pointing to the scoreboard, "Totally unrelated, but I'd like to point out the fact that we are absolutely killing them."

The score was twenty to six. Killian honestly wasn't surprised.

"We're pretty damn good, aren't we?" He smirked.

"I'd say so." Graham replied, "I wouldn't blow your head up too much—we were this good last year and didn't finish it."

"Well, I'm in charge this year. We're winning the Championship if it kills us." Killian retorted, tossing the last of his water to the back of his throat.

Killian leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, watching the game intently. His teammates were making some nearly perfect passes, which made his heart race. He loved the feeling of this game.

"Knocking girls over is your new tactic?" Jefferson's snarky tone asked from beside him.

"Ha, hilarious, Jeff." Killian spoke with a fake smile, then focused in on the game again.

"Was she okay?"

"She was fine, just pissed off that I knocked her over," Killian scowled, with the wave of his hand, "It was her fault for walking so damn close to the field."

"I still think you probably should have been paying attention." Jefferson said, "That could have been someone smaller, like Grace."

Killian furrowed his brows at Jefferson, incredulous that he would say that.

"Well, it wasn't." Killian snapped.

"She really did a number on you, didn't she?" Jefferson smirked.

"No, I'm just trying to focus."

"Since when?" Jefferson laughed, "She said something you didn't like. Spill."

"Are you always this annoying?"

"Only when I know you're lying to me."

Killian glared at him before shoving the side of his head.

"Later." Killian promised with a genuine smile.

"I'll hold you to that promise, Jones." Jefferson spoke with raised brows.

"I know you will."

* * *

><p>Killian fell back onto his bed as soon as he returned from their victory dinner. It'd been an extremely long day, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up under his sheets and sleep. But, he had schoolwork to do. And a lot of it. Killian may have been on top of everything lacrosse-related, but when it came to schoolwork, he was usually behind.<p>

So, he forced himself up and walked to his closet, stripping of his lacrosse jersey and shorts. He tossed them into his laundry bin (that was getting quite full) and grabbed his lacrosse sweatshirt, tugging it over his head. He could already feel the muscles aching.

He pulled on some pajama bottoms and walked to his desk, opening the first drawer. After digging through all the junk he had in there (he really needed to clean that out), he finally located the Icy-Hot pads Graham had given him. He ripped the package open and took the pad out, staring at it for a few seconds before tossing it onto his desk and grabbing the box to read the instructions.

Seemed simple enough.

He did as the instructions told him, a slight shiver running down his spine when the pad started cooling. Killian let out a sigh of relief at the feeling, moving to his bed and grabbing his laptop from his side table.

As he powered up his computer, he realized he'd gotten an email from Gold. Oh, no. Not good.

Killian cautiously opened it and read it quickly to himself before letting out an obnoxiously loud groan. Gold wanted to see him the next morning for 'an important meeting'. He could only imagine what that meant.

"Killian, you okay in here?" Jefferson asked as he walked in.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Gold wants to see me tomorrow morning, meaning I'm in major trouble." Killian sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

"He won't kick you off the team, will he?"

"I hope not."

Jefferson bit his lip with a nod, sitting on the edge of Killian's bed. Killian could feel Jefferson's eyes on him, knowing he was looking for an answer to his question from earlier.

"And yeah, just so you know, what she said did throw me off. I'm not used to being sassed back." Killian admitted.

"I knew it." Jefferson smiled, "Did you get her name?"

"Yeah, but Graham told me. She wanted nothing to do with me." Killian shrugged, "She overreacted anyways."

"I don't know, you knocked her over."

"Keep bringing it up, why don't you?" Killian asked, opening his paper up.

"Sorry." Jefferson mumbled.

"God, I have no idea how any of this is going to get done." Killian groaned and buried his face in his hands before rubbing them down his cheeks.

"I'll let you be, then. Hopefully the thing with Gold isn't anything serious."

"Oh, no, it's serious. He wouldn't ask to speak to me in private if it was nothing." Killian sighed as Jefferson stood up.

"Good luck, then."

"Thanks." Killian replied. He needed that.

* * *

><p>Killian was actually on time for once (even if it was only because he knew Gold would murder him if he wasn't). He waited patiently outside his office, messing around on his phone while he waited for Gold to get off of a phone call.<p>

Finally, there was a tap on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Gold.

"Morning." Killian grinned, earning the raise of an eyebrow in return.

"Go have a seat." Gold said, motioning for him to go inside his office. Killian's smile flattened, and he nodded, grabbing his bag and moving inside.

He took a seat at the desk, glancing around at all of the trophies in the man's office. There were so many, including their silver trophy from the year before. How terribly Killian wanted to steal it. Maybe he would, one day.

"Mr. Jones, do you understand why you're in here?"

"I'd assume it's because of our lovely conversation last night." Killian replied airily, playing with the weird ornament Gold had sitting on his desk. His hand was slapped away, making him furrow his brows.

"I am not here for games, Jones. You need to get your act together."

"I know, you've told me a million times. I'll get it together before the end of the year, don't—"

"You seem to misunderstand—I need you to get it together before the end of the month." Gold interrupted.

"Why?"

"Because May 1st is when the final roster is due for the playoffs. If your grades aren't up, I can't put you on that roster." Gold explained.

"It's only that one class, you can't just, you know, make an excuse?" Killian spoke with a hopeful smile.

"No, I'm afraid I cannot," Gold replied as the door behind Killian opened, "But, I've a plan, as usual."

Killian turned to see who was walking in, his face blanching when he realized exactly who it was.

"You're the one who knocked me over last night!" Emma (that was her name, right?) shrieked. Killian raised an eyebrow at the noise.

"You're the one who was dumb enough to walk along the sideline." Killian spoke in a haughty tone.

"Miss Swan, this is Killian Jones." Gold said, "He's, as Regina so kindly put it, your project for the rest of the semester."

"Mr. Gold, I'm sorry, but I can't—"

"I'm not working with her—"

"Enough!" Gold shouted, slamming his hand on the table, "Killian, you need a tutor, and Emma needs a project to write on. You two are practically made for each other."

Killian didn't miss the way Emma scowled at him. Oh, how he wished to see her smile. Wait, what?

"I can't tutor him, I—"

"I'm sorry, Miss Swan, but this is the assignment Regina has given you. If you'd like to change your mind, I suggest you speak with her."

"On the upside, Blondie, I don't want to do this either." Killian offered.

The look Emma gave him probably would have killed him if looks could kill. Her green (beautifully green) eyes were dark, her brows furrowed so deep that Killian thought they just might eat her pretty eyes.

"I still don't understand why Mrs. Mills would agree to—"

"Let's say Regina and I go back." Gold spoke with a smile, making Killian crinkle his nose up at the thought.

"That was more information than I needed." Killian groaned, more to himself than anyone else.

"Are you two in on the deal?" Gold pressed. Killian sighed, knowing neither of them really had a choice.

"Can I have a minute to think about this?" Emma asked.

"Of course, dearie. I'll let you two talk it out." Gold spoke with a smile, walking out of the room and shutting it behind himself.

"Look, neither of us want this, but we both need it." Killian sighed, "We both just have to stick it out long enough that my grade gets better and you get your stupid article written."

"Whoa, do not call my article stupid." Emma snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Killian could not believe her. She was a spitfire.

"I don't want this either, but we're stuck, okay?" Killian spoke harshly as he rose to his feet, "Don't go around pointing fingers, Blondie."

"Stop calling me that." She snapped.

"Why should I?" Killian smirked. His smirk quickly faded when she was suddenly only inches from his face, seething.

"Look, I don't want this just as much as you don't. Neither of us have a choice, so just try to be fucking civil." Emma sneered.

Killian couldn't help but smirk at her. He was incredibly close to asking her for sex right then. Whoa, what?

"Okay, okay. I can be civil." Killian smiled, "Unless it's under some sheets."

Killian didn't miss the way her cheeks reddened, and when she realized he noticed, she shoved him and stood up straight.

"Well, since you clearly aren't in control—"

"Watch it, Blondie."

"I have a name."

"Yeah, and I prefer Blondie."

"I prefer my name."

"Fine," Killian spoke with a mocking smile, "Swan."

Emma shifted her jaw, clearly showing her frustration with him.

"As I was saying, before you rudely interrupted," Emma spoke firmly, "Since I'm the one in control, I set up when and where I tutor you."

"You'll have to work around my practice schedule, love." Killian grinned.

"I think you misunderstood," Emma spoke with an acidic smile, "I am in control, you'll follow my rules."

Killian had to admit—this side of Emma was much more attractive.

"Anything you say, love." Killian smirked, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Meet me at the café at five. We'll start with something easy, just for you." Emma spoke with a fake smile before signing the paper and storming out.

Killian couldn't help but grin at this woman who he'd been stuck with. She was something of a mystery—one that Killian wanted to solve.


	8. Now We're Talking

_A/N: Ah, hello! I hope you're all having a lovely day! So, I think this is my longest chapter thus far—it's certainly got a lot to it._

_Listened to a lot of the Civil Wars while writing this, including 'Sacred Heart', 'C'est La Mort'. A lot of Of Monsters and Men was involved as well—'Dirty Paws' & 'Sloom' come to mind. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Emma took a deep breath as she finally stepped out of that seemingly small room, nodding to Gold once more before stomping down the hallway. She couldn't believe Mrs. Mills would set her up to do something so stupid.<p>

Really? Writing a recurring column on the damn lacrosse team was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn't know much about the sport, definitely not enough to write a column about it. She assumed this was why Mrs. Mills talked her into tutoring one of the players—seeing as maybe he could help her a little.

What was she thinking? She didn't need his help. She could do this on her own. Emma Swan did not need anyone to help her with a column.

Once she finally got back to her dorm room later that afternoon, she finally felt like she could breathe. She smiled to Mary when she walked in, who furrowed her brows.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean? I'm fine." Emma spoke with another forced smile as she shoved her key into the lock and fighting with it. Was nothing going to go her way today?

"I don't know, you just seem kind of out of it." Mary replied. Emma finally sighed and leaned against her door, looking to Mary.

"I have to tutor that idiot that bumped into me last night."

"Oh." Mary said, clutching her mug a little tighter, "Is he at least cute?"

"Mary!"

"What?" Mary asked, defensively shrugging her shoulders, "It's just a question."

Emma offered a soft smile to her friend before rolling her eyes and opening her door, tossing her bag onto the floor and walking back out into the common room. She plopped onto the seat cushion beside Mary and looked to her.

"I appreciate you trying to set me up, but I don't need a boyfriend right now."

"I wasn't trying to set you up, Emma. I was just asking if he was at all attractive."

"He's alright, I guess." Lie.

"Just alright?" Mary pressed.

"Yeah, just alright." Lie.

"Okay." Mary spoke with a smile as she took a sip.

"What?" Emma asked, offering a quick laugh.

"Nothing, it just… Nothing." Mary smiled, "When do you have to tutor him?"

"I'm meeting him in an hour at the café."

"Ooh," Mary grinned, "Your favorite spot on campus."

"Oh, hush. I told him to meet me there, he's not psychic." Emma spoke with the roll of her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Oh." Mary smiled, "Well, I think if you try to think about in… maybe a different light, you might find that it can be kind of enjoyable."

"I don't know. He's the kind of guy to make sexual innuendos out of everything—remember what I told you he said last night?" Emma scoffed. She still couldn't believe he said that.

"I know." Mary replied, "I know. You don't like that kind of stuff. Maybe under all of those innuendos is a nice guy."

"Doubtful, but I appreciate your optimism." Emma smiled, leaning into her friend's side.

"I'm always optimistic." Mary spoke lightly, "I can't help but see the best in things, even when they don't seem perfect at first. You of all people should know that."

"Oh, believe me, I know." Emma giggled.

* * *

><p>The more she and Mary talked, the calmer she felt. Something in the way Mary spoke made her feel relaxed, like she had no problems in the world. Mary was so unbelievably optimistic (she constantly told Emma that even just having hope is 'a very powerful thing'), something Emma lacked. She liked being shown the lighter side of things, even if it wasn't her view.<p>

Emma tapped her fingers on the tabletop beside her coffee, waiting for Killian to show up. She was a few minutes early, but she figured he'd be late anyways. He seemed like that kind of guy—Emma knew it was mean to judge, but everything about him screamed bad boy. The attitude, the swagger in his step—she could practically see the leather jacket and combat boots combo on him. So, Emma wasn't expecting him to walk in right at five.

"How long have you been sitting here, love?"

"Please don't call me that." Emma rolled her eyes as he plopped down across from her.

"Sorry, it's habit." Killian smiled. It was absolutely genuine.

"Are you actually being nice to me?"

"Yes, I do have that capability, Swan." Killian chuckled, "I'm gonna get something to drink. Don't miss me too much."

"I'll try." Emma spoke with a forced smile, rolling her eyes again when he winked as he left again.

She watched him order a coffee, obviously sucking up to the older lady behind the counter. He apparently was quite the ladies' man. Maybe it was his smile? Or his eyes. Those were nice—what was she thinking? He wasn't her type—ladies' man kind of guys were over-the-top. Though, Emma wasn't really surprised that's who he was.

"Alright, I'm back—what's first, Swan?" He asked, leaning back into the booth with a toothy grin.

"I think we should talk about what we both need." Emma said.

"In general? Because I could go for some se—"

"No, for God's sake." Emma groaned, rubbing a hand down her face, "I'm talking about between us. I need you for the column I have to write, and you need me to, what, write your papers so you'll pass your Creative Writing course?"

"I never said you'd be the one writing my papers, lass. I'm perfectly capable." Killian retorted before taking a long sip of his drink, his deep, blue eyes never leaving Emma's. She finally had to look down to her own cup before her cheeks grew too red.

"Then, why do you need my help?"

"I mean, I can write my papers, I just don't ever have great ideas for them." Killian shrugged. Emma could tell she struck a chord by the way he set his cup down harder than usual.

"You don't have ideas?" Emma pressed, "That's why I'm being forced to help you?"

"Look, if you don't want to fucking do this, tell me now so I'm not kicked off the damn team by the end of the month." Killian snapped.

_ Kicked off the team?_

Apparently she'd said that aloud, given the way he sighed and responded.

"Aye. I'm not… Let's just say I'm not the most responsible person." Killian said.

"I could have told you that." Emma replied, searching his eyes for something, a lie, anything. He was being honest again.

"Well, whatever, if you don't want to help me, don't worry about it, then."

"No, I made a promise to Mr. Gold and my editor." Emma spoke firmly, "And I'm not one to go back on promises."

His expression was unreadable. Was he surprised? Emma couldn't really tell, and that drove her insane. It drove her even more insane when he didn't say anything for a few moments. And, when he did, he changed the subject.

"Okay, so clearly we're both not comfortable with this." Killian deadpanned.

"Obviously." Emma sighed, taking a sip from her coffee.

"Why don't we play a game?" He spoke, a smirk rising on his lips.

"A game? I'm here to help you—"

"I know why we're here, but if we can't connect on this level, I feel like we ought to try another." Killian said, "Perhaps informally."

"And what do you suggest?" Emma asked with a raised brow, leaning back against the seat and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Something like Twenty Questions." He spoke with a smile that even Emma had to admit that was absolutely gorgeous.

"Twenty Questions?"

"Aye, love." He smiled, "Or are you chicken?"

He just met her the previous day—how _dare _he call her a chicken.

"I'm just afraid you'll ask way too personal questions."

"Okay, fine." Killian said, "If you don't want to answer a question, just, uh, pass." He shrugged, then smirked, leaning forward and setting his elbows on the table, "I get to go first."

"Great." Emma sighed.

"Why were you on the field last night in the first place?" He asked, making her eyes widen.

"I, um, saw someone I knew."

"And obviously didn't want anything to do with." Killian chuckled, then stopped. Emma realized he must have noticed her pensive eyes.

"No." Emma said, "Okay, my turn."

"Ask away, love." He smirked, taking another drink of his coffee.

"What are you majoring in?"

"Really?" Killian chuckled, "You could ask me any question you want, and that's the one you choose."

"Answer it."

"Okay, fine, fine." He smiled, leaning back again, "International Studies."

International Studies. That was a new one.

"International Studies?"

"Yeah, I love travelling… I want to go back to Ireland someday, too." Killian spoke with a certain softness that made the corners of Emma's lips curl up.

"Ireland. Were you born there?"

"Ah, ah, ah. My turn." Killian grinned, "Where are you from, lass?"

Emma's smile faded, and she took a deep breath. Could she trust him? Something was telling her to, but… given her past, she wasn't sure. He seemed genuine, but something was nagging at the back of her mind, as usual.

"Lass?" Killian asked, snapping her from her thoughts.

"Oh. Um, I don't know where I'm really from."

"Well, that's a little impossible." Killian chuckled, sitting up straighter again, "How can you not know where you're from?"

Could she tell him?

"I just don't." Emma shrugged. Nope. She couldn't bring herself to tell him.

"Fair enough." Killian replied, surprising her. He was going to let her go this easily?

"Okay…" Emma said, thinking, "So, you said you're from Ireland."

"Not a question." Killian chuckled, "But, true."

"I'm not finished." Emma giggled (since when did she _giggle_? _God_.), "Do you still have family there?"

Something in his expression changed. His eyes went downcast, looking down at his cup that his right hand was toying with now. He shifted his jaw a little bit, making Emma feel just a little bit bad for asking.

"No, I, um, I don't have any family there." Killian finally spoke, looking up and meeting her eyes with (what seemed like) a forced smile.

"Oh." Emma replied, not really knowing what else there was to say.

"My turn," He spoke a little louder, offering a real smile this time, "Last time you got roaring pissed."

That was a weird question.

"Why do you assume I get drunk?"

"Everyone does, love." Killian grinned, "C'mon, fess up."

Emma took a deep breath and rolled her eyes before leaning forward and staring at him.

"Over Christmas Break, I may or may not have gone to a party with my two roommates and got so drunk I woke up with this flower tattoo." Emma sighed, rolling up her sleeve and showing him the small flower on her wrist. With that, he burst out laughing.

"What?" She demanded.

"I'm sorry, you don't seem like the kind of person to do that." Killian spoke between laughs. Emma could feel her face grow hotter as he continued to laugh obnoxiously loud.

"It's not that funny!" She whisper-yelled.

"Swan, that's fucking golden." His laughter finally subsided, ending with a beaming smile, "Absolutely golden."

"It's a tattoo. It's really not that funny."

"I know it's a tattoo. You just don't seem like the type that would have done that."

"And how do you know me so well?"

"Ah, Swan," Killian smiled, leaning forward so their faces were inches apart, just like earlier that day, "I think I may know you better than you know yourself."

Emma held her breath as his eyes pierced through hers. He was so, so close, too close, yet Emma couldn't pull herself away. She could feel his warm breath on her lips, breath that smelled like coffee and something else she couldn't quite place her finger on.

Finally, he tugged away, a smirk on his face. Oh, no. He was smirking about her blushing.

"Your turn." He spoke coolly, his smirk growing.

Emma stumbled on her words, trying to find a good question to ask, trying not to show how flustered she was. Clearly, that didn't work.

"Can't think of a question, love?"

"No, I have one." Emma replied, clearing her throat, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Pass."

"Which means 'yes'." Emma spoke with a victorious smile.

Killian sighed and pushed up his own sleeve, showing a tattoo of a heart with a name in the center of it.

"Milah?" Emma asked curiously, looking from the tattoo to his eyes that were settled on his wrist.

"A… lost love." He spoke with finality and a quick, bittersweet smile.

Emma immediately felt her stomach flip, realizing that she pushed it. She was about to say something before Killian rose from the booth.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"It's not you. I have practice in fifteen minutes." He smiled, but Emma could tell that whatever she said struck a chord in him, "When's the next time? I'm assuming we'll be doing actual work next time?"

"Hopefully," Emma replied with a small smile, "I don't know. I'll, um, think of a time."

"Sounds good." Killian grinned, grabbing his coffee and bag and walking away.

Emma let out a sigh as she watched him leave, taking another sip of her coffee. She couldn't figure him out, and that drove her absolutely mad.


	9. Text Me, Maybe

_A/N: Hello! This chapter is another really long one. I actually combined two chapters, since Killian's POV was really, really short._

_I listened to 'Little Numbers' by BOY, 'From Finner' by Of Monsters and Men, along with a few other songs I can't remember right now. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Practice was a lot of goofing around and not a lot of actual progress—shocking, really. Afterwards, most of the guys had school work to do, which meant no dinner together. Killian managed to talk Graham into getting Chinese takeout with him, though.<p>

"How was the study thing with Emma?" Graham immediately asked as Killian set his stuff down after practice. Killian couldn't help but smile up at his friend as he went to sit at the counter, opening his food and sighing at the wonderful smell. He was starving.

"Not too badly—we didn't do any real studying. Just took a few minutes to get to know each other." Killian shrugged.

Graham nodded in response, patting his shoulder and sitting beside him.

"Glad you're not going anywhere, Captain." He smiled, making Killian chuckle.

"Yeah, me too." Killian smiled, taking a swig of water.

"I told you she wasn't as bad as you thought." Graham grinned.

"Oh, do I sense some pining?" Killian teased, taking a scoop of rice and downing it.

Graham didn't answer immediately, instead offering a smile.

"Of course not. Emma's a friend." Graham finally replied, taking a bite of his eggroll.

"A friend." Killian repeated.

* * *

><p>Graham left shortly after their makeshift dinner, allowing for Killian to take a nice, long shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out of the steamy bathroom, running a hand through his wet hair with a sigh.<p>

Killian quickly changed into his pajamas, lying on his bed and staring at his messages. He had just sent a text to Emma (all it read was 'Why, hello, Swan'), since Graham was kind enough to give him her number.

Finally, a response.

_Swan: Who is this?_

Killian scoffed as if he'd been offended that she didn't recognize the nickname he'd given her. Though, he figured it might have been a common nickname for her.

_Killian: Sorry, love, it's Killian._

_Swan: How the hell did you get my number?_

_ Ah, the question of the evening._

_Killian: Your friend Graham was kind enough to give it to me._

_Swan: Right. He's on the lacrosse team. Of course he knows you._

It was then Killian knew she'd be a tough nut to crack. He was always up for a challenge, though. Running another hand through his hair, he couldn't help but smile.

_Killian: And what's that supposed to mean, love?_

_Swan: Stop texting me._

_Killian: Why? I'm quite enjoying our conversation. Would you rather speak over the phone?_

_Swan: Definitely not._

Killian had the urge to call her, simply to piss her off. So, that was exactly what he was going to do. It took her three rings to answer.

"Ah, evening, Swan."

"_You want to piss me off as much as you can, don't you?" _Emma asked.

"Oh, no, love." Killian smiled.

"_Mm, that's why you got my number, texted me, and called me, all in one night."_ Emma replied.

She was smart, he'd give her that.

"Graham gave it to me, actually." Killian spoke with a smirk, knowing damn well she couldn't see it. Oh, how he wished she could.

"_Look—it doesn't matter. You still have it."_

"You're saying that like it's a bad thing, love."

"_Knowing you, it is."_

"Ah, ah, ah, no assumptions."

"_Why did you call me, Jones?"_ Emma pressed.

"I was just wondering when we would be meeting again, to actually study this time."

"_You make it sound like _I _was the one off-task."_

"If I recall correctly, we were both off-task, love." Killian retorted with a smile, chuckling when he heard a frustrated sigh on the other line.

"_You're insufferable."_ Emma grumbled, making Killian's smile widen.

"So, when will I be graced by your presence again?" Killian asked.

The line was silent for a few moments before Emma answered.

"_Six tomorrow, same spot."_

"Ah, lovely. You've picked the one day I don't have practice or a game." Killian smiled.

"_Seems like it's your lucky day, then."_ Emma replied, and Killian could tell she was at least smiling a little bit.

"Always a lucky day when I'm in your presence, Swan."

"_You are a kiss ass."_

"You love it."

"_Not really."_

She hung up. Wow. Killian was not expecting that. She was certainly going to be a challenge.

Lucky, Killian adored challenges.

* * *

><p>Emma had really had it with Wednesday. Maybe, after she'd finished her book (god, if she could finish the damn thing), she'd write to the President and ask him not-so politely to rid the world of Wednesdays forever.<p>

"Who're you talking to, Ems?" Ruby's voice asked as the door slammed behind her. Emma glanced up to her, waving her away as she finished the conversation with the stupid lost boy.

Ruby plopped beside her with a way-too-wide grin, settling her hands on her knees as she waited.

"Was that the cute boy from the game last night?" She asked curiously, "The one you're tutoring?"

"Please." Emma scoffed, "He was not cute. He's a cocky asshole."

"Oh, come on—you said he was cute."

"I didn't, actually, I said he had blue eyes and dark hair." Emma deadpanned, glaring at Ruby. She could have killed her right then.

"Yeah, which equals hot."

"Whatever, Ruby." Emma groaned, picking up her textbook and highlighter again.

"No, hey, you aren't slipping out of this so easy, pal." Ruby smiled, taking Emma's book and tossing it across the room, causing Emma to shriek and nearly run to go get it. That is, until Ruby grabbed her arm and planted her back onto the couch.

"What, Ruby?" Emma sighed, shooting her friend dark eyes.

"Whoa," Ruby spoke with her arms out to her sides defensively, "I was just saying, maybe you ought to give him a chance."

"Yeah, the last time I did that it worked out so well, didn't it?" Emma snapped, rising from the couch and storming to grab her book.

"Emma, you know—"

"I'm not in the mood, Ruby." Emma spoke sharply, walking to her room and making a point to slam the door. She didn't enjoy being a bitch, but after that phone call with Jones, she did not want to talk to anyone ever again.

"Ems, please, let me in?" Ruby asked.

"Go away, Ruby. I'm not in a good mood and you know it." Emma replied, flopping onto her bed with a sigh.

There wasn't a response on the other side, making Emma close her eyes with yet another sigh. Curling up was the only thing that sounded good at that point.

Emma only laid curled up for a few moments before her phone buzzed with a text.

_Graham: Are you okay?_

Emma rolled her eyes, knowing Ruby told him. Of course she would.

_Emma: I'm fine, not really in the mood to talk. Sorry._

_Graham: Not even if I sent you this? [photo of him making huge puppy eyes]_

Emma rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to smile as she typed out a response.

_Emma: Nope, sorry. Not even that._

_Graham: Wow, you're really pissed then._

_Emma: Not pissed. Frustrated._

_Graham: Do I have the pleasure of knowing?_

_Emma: It's a lot of things right now._

_Graham: Let me guess: Killian is one of them._

_Emma: Your egotistical, cocky friend? Yes, he happens to be one facet of the problem._

_Graham: … Do you need me to call you?_

Emma bit her lip, looking to the clock and reading the time. 8:15 PM.

_Emma: I might like to hear your voice after today, yeah._

_Graham: Hold on._

Emma waited only a few moments before his picture showed up on her phone. Her lips curled up into a smile as she answered.

"_Do you need me to come over?"_ He immediately asked.

"No, no, calm down." Emma giggled, "I'm okay, I'm just… I've had a rough day, between my classes being dreadful, the whole Killian thing, and then the idiot texting me and just being a general asshole."

"_He doesn't mean it, I promise."_ Graham replied.

"It doesn't matter, my day just plummeted because of it." Emma groaned, laying on her back, staring at the ceiling.

"_Don't let that get you, Emma. You're stronger than that."_ Graham said, and Emma knew there was a little truth to that.

"I know, I know." Emma sighed, "Why do you know me so well?"

"_We're friends, that's why."_ Graham chuckled, making Emma laugh.

"Thank you for listening to my bitching, Graham."

"_You know I don't think that's what it is."_

"Shut up, all guys think every time I open my mouth is that it's bitching." Emma replied honestly. She'd been told that before—and the guy who told her that didn't like the punch he received.

"_Well, I know you, and you don't let people get you down." _Graham replied, and Emma could tell exactly what expression he had on his face.

"I've just had a bad day, that's all."

"_He's getting under your skin."_

"No, he is not!"

"_Uh-huh. Don't let Killian get under your skin—he doesn't mean half the shit he says. That's the only way he knows how to connect with people."_ Graham explained.

"What a shitty way to connect with people." Emma replied, rolling her eyes. Of course Graham was standing up for his friend.

"_Emma, just don't hate him, okay? You've just gotta make it through the month, then you don't have to deal with him. Please don't hate him, don't quit on him."_

Why was he so set on her not hating him?

"Fine, whatever. I'll make it through the damn month." Emma agreed.

"_You can do it, Emma. I know you."_ Graham chuckled.

"Catch you tomorrow for lunch?"

"_Sure thing, Emma. Goodnight."_

"Night, Graham." Emma replied, hanging up and tossing her phone on the other side of her bed. She was glad she had him—sometimes, though she loved Mary's and even Ruby's advice, getting a guy's perspective was nice.

Her phone buzzed on her bed, and she rolled her eyes as she forced herself upright to grab her phone. Only to see a text from Killian. She groaned and fell back onto the bed again, bringing her phone up to her face.

_Killian: Have a nice night, Swan._

_Emma: Graham told you, didn't he?_

_Killian: …_

_Killian: No._

_Emma: Uh-huh. Go to bed, Jones._

Who could Emma even freaking trust anymore? Mary was the only one who hadn't talked behind her back that day. So, that left her list to just Mary, then.

_Killian: But, I just adore talking to you._

_Emma: You are so full of it. It's unbelievable._

_Killian: Well, yes, that's what happens when you're a captain, love._

Emma rolled her eyes at that, wanting to chuck her phone across the room. He was so damn cocky, and it made Emma's stomach flip every time he said something like that.

_Emma: Whatever._

_Killian: I'll let the swan get some beauty sleep._

_Emma: Are you saying I need more beauty sleep?_

_Killian: I never said that._

Emma couldn't help but smile at that. Until she realized who she was talking to. She rolled her eyes and set her phone on her charger, grabbing her book again and getting back to reading.

After reading for only a few moments, her phone buzzed again.

_Killian: Goodnight, Princess._

Emma rolled her eyes, trying her best to ignore the warmth growing in her stomach. He was not getting under her skin. Not this easily.

And yet somehow, she couldn't stop thinking about him as she read her book. She couldn't stop thinking about how he opened up to her about his tattoo (sort of), how his laughter echoed through the quiet coffee shop when she told him about her drunk adventures, how his eyes lit up at the mention of Ireland. Somewhere deep inside herself, Emma wanted to get under his skin, too.

Little did she know, she already was.


	10. (Not So) Playful Banter

_A/N: Hello again! Killian and Emma are killing me. Damn muses, always acting up. Whatever, hope you enjoy this one! Fun times ahead, I promise._

_I listened to 'Reflections' by the Misterwives, 'Luck' by American Authors, 'In My Veins' by Andrew Belle, & 'Poet' by Bastille. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Emma slept far better than she thought she would. Somehow, all of the thoughts in her mind disappeared as she started closing her eyes, allowing her to get the sleep she so desperately needed. In fact, she felt so awake that she didn't even bother with the coffee machine that morning.<p>

Bad mistake.

Here she was, sitting in the coffee shop, waiting for Graham, while downing her second cup.

"Two cups already, Emma?" Graham chuckled, setting his things down, "Impressive."

"Shut up, I didn't have any coffee this morning." Emma grumbled.

"I see." Graham replied with a smile, making Emma furrow her brows as she set her cup back down.

"Why are you making that face?"

"Hm?" Graham smiled, "I'm not making a face."

"You totally were." Emma replied.

"Was not." Graham smiled. Emma couldn't even pretend to be mad at him as she giggled and reached over to hit his arm.

"You're an idiot."

He offered a shrug, making her roll her eyes. At least they were both in good moods. She wished she was in a better one the night before.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you last night." Emma finally admitted, making Graham frown and shake his head.

"I knew you had a bad day. Ruby told me."

"Course she did." Emma groaned, taking a long sip of her coffee.

"Emma, please don't be mad." Graham pleaded, causing her to furrow her brows.

"Why would I be mad at you?" Emma asked.

"I just thought you would because Ruby told me."

"No, that's not your fault, that's hers." Emma shrugged, "Don't sweat it, okay?"

"...Okay."

"You did tell Killian, though." Emma spoke with a raised brow. She smiled as his cheeks reddened and he diverted his attention to his sleeves, "I freaking knew it."

"Sorry." Graham mumbled, "He's my friend, too."

"Oh, yeah, and bros before hoes, right?" Emma mocked, causing him to laugh.

"You know that's not real bro code."

"Oh? Then what is? Humor me." Emma smiled, leaning back into her seat.

"I can't tell you. You're not a bro."

Emma rolled her eyes with a smile, glancing to her watch before grabbing her bag.

"Well, I need to head to class. I'll see you later, I guess."

"Yeah." Graham smiled, "Oh, and you're meeting with Killian tonight, right?"

"Do you guys just have weird guy sleepovers where you talk about everything?" Emma asked incredulously, earning a roaring laugh from Graham, "See you later, Humbert."

She ruffled his curls as she walked by, a smile wide on her face. She promised herself she'd make it a good day.

Luckily, it was a pretty lovely day outside. There was a slight breeze, which felt amazing as she rode her bike. Once she made it to the English building, she parked and locked her bike, then headed up the stairs to the front door. She smiled as she opened the door, only to literally bump into someone. A too familiar someone.

"Ah, fancy seeing you here." Killian smiled, his eyes glancing over Emma's outfit. She didn't feel like putting up with the backlash for commenting on that.

"Oh, yeah, totally random that I'd come here, of all places on campus. It's not like my major is English-based, or anything." Emma spoke with the wave of her hand.

"Right, right." Killian spoke with another smile and the raise of his brows, "You doing anything tonight?"

Emma rolled her eyes at that one. Of course he would. He fucking would.

"Yeah, I'm spending my evening tutoring some idiot athlete."

"Ah, yeah, I just remembered—I'm spending mine with a stuck-up journalist." Killian spoke with a fake smile before pushing past her.

_What was that?_

"Hey!" Emma called after him, letting the door go and chasing him. He turned at her voice, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, love?"

"You do not get to call me a 'stuck-up journalist' and get all offended when I call you an 'idiot athlete'!"

"And why is that, Swan?" He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. Oh, damn, those biceps. _SWAN, GET IT TOGETHER._

"Because you should be able to handle your own medicine."

"For the record, I wasn't offended—I was saving your ass. You'll be late, now." Killian spoke with a smile before turning. Emma looked to her watch with a shriek, spinning on her heel and darting through the hallway.

She would fucking kill him later for that.

"Emma, you're late." Mrs. Mills said as Emma hurried to her seat. Emma could feel her face grow impossibly redder, nodding to her professor.

"Sorry." Emma mumbled, shuffling to get her things out of her bag. Mrs. Mills raised a brow, then continued lecturing.

* * *

><p>Emma couldn't focus during the entire lecture. She had to ask Mrs. Mills why she thought it was such a good idea to make her tutor Killian. There better be a damn good reason, she thought.<p>

"Mrs. Mills, I need to talk to you."

"Emma, I have—"

"No, I'm talking to you." Emma said, "I'll make it fast."

The woman rolled her eyes, setting her hands on her hips and giving Emma her attention.

"Why are you making me tutor Killian Jones?" Emma pressed, "And why am I writing a column on the damn lacrosse team?"

"Honestly, Emma? You need a change of pace. You're a good writer, but you play it safe." She replied, "You write about the same thing every time."

Emma felt somewhat offended by her words. She didn't write about the same thing every single time! There was a lot of variation in her work!

"What are you talking about?"

"Emma, you have a lot of potential—so, with potential, you need a challenge to prove that to me." Her editor said, causing Emma to furrow her brows even more.

"A challenge? And you thought the lacrosse team was a good idea?" Emma snapped, "I'm sorry, but that's the dumbest—"

"Let's say I owe Mr. Gold a favor." Mrs. Mills spoke with finality, grabbing her bag and walking out of the room, leaving Emma standing confused.

"A favor?" Emma repeated, though she knew Mrs. Mills was far from hearing range.

Someone was losing a limb. She hadn't decided who yet, but someone was going to pay for this.


	11. Cinnamon Cocoas

_A/N: Hi everyone! Still liking it? I know it's a slow burn, but there are… developments in this chapter._

_Playlist this time around included: 'She Will Be Loved' by Maroon 5, 'Stubborn Love' by the Lumineers, 'Awake My Soul' by Mumford & Sons, and others. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Killian yawned as he sauntered into the coffee shop, glancing around for Swan. She wasn't there yet.<p>

Huh. That was weird.

Not that he really knew her all that well, but she seemed like the kind of person who would be on time or way too early for everything. He did have a little evidence of that, though, from earlier in the day. So, by his count, she should have already been there.

He curiously pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his texts, seeing that there wasn't one from Swan. That was weird.

Killian went ahead and ordered his coffee and sat down at the table they were seated at the previous time, waiting for her. He glanced to his watch that read five after six, making him purse his lips. He wasn't worried, but it sure as hell wasn't right.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I've literally had the worst days in the history of terrible days." Emma sighed, plopping into the seat across from him.

"No worries." Killian smiled, "Why don't I go grab you a coffee while you get settled in?"

She glanced up to him with wide, confused eyes.

"You'd actually buy me a drink?" She asked incredulously.

"Of course. What do you like?"

She thought for a moment, and as she did, Killian couldn't help but smile at the pensive expression on her face.

"I'm kind of in the mood for hot cocoa." She spoke with a shrug.

"I'll be right back." Killian grinned, getting up from his seat and sauntering to the counter.

"One hot cocoa, please." Killian asked the nice old lady behind the counter.

"Anything on it?" She asked as he swiped his card. He glanced to Emma, who had her head in her hands, then back to the old woman.

"Add some whipped cream and cinnamon, please." He smiled. She nodded, turning to start preparing Emma's drink.

He glanced over to Emma once more, trying to read her expression. She looked upset, but he knew she'd be offended if he asked. She seemed like the type to get easily offended. Another point Killian had evidence for: Exhibit A, the night they met. He knew more about Swan than he thought.

"One cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon." The lady smiled, handing Killian the cup.

"Thanks, love." He grinned, taking it back to Emma.

"Thank you." She spoke softly as he handed it to her. She looked to the cup, then back up to Killian as he sat down.

"What? Never seen whipped cream before, love?" He smirked.

"No, I just… I've never had it this way before."

"Try it. I think you'll find it's delicious." Killian replied, watching her take a long sip, then smile.

"Perfect." She breathed, "It tastes amazing."

"I never lie." Killian chuckled, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"I'd question that, but I'm too in love with this cocoa right now." Emma mumbled, taking another sip.

"Glad you like it." Killian grinned, "My brother used to, um, make it for me."

Her head perked up at the mention of his brother.

"You have a brother?" She asked, barely getting through swallowing.

"Aye." He replied. She didn't have to know the whole truth yet.

"There's a lot I don't know about you, then." She replied, setting her cup down and opening her notebook.

_You don't even know_, he thought with a sigh.

"So, we're getting actual work done tonight, I presume?"

"Yes, we are." Emma sighed.

"Oh, joyous day." Killian groaned, leaning back in the booth.

* * *

><p>After working on his next paper for nearly an hour, Killian noticed how… off Emma seemed. There were bags under her eyes, and she looked like she was going to pass out at any moment. It was certainly a change from when he saw her earlier in the morning.<p>

"Are you alright, Swan?" Killian asked, causing her to look up from what she was jotting down.

"Me? I'm fine." She replied quickly.

"Honestly, I mean." Killian added, "You seem… not quite yourself."

"I'm tired." Emma sighed.

"Maybe get some more sleep tonight then," Killian said, shutting his textbook, "Why don't we continue this Saturday morning?"

Emma looked to him again, blinking a few times before responding.

"Oh, no, I'm fine—"

"No offense, love, but you look like you've been hit by a train. A really large train, that was going very fast—"

"Shut up, I get it." Emma grumbled, closing her notebook.

"Need a ride back to your place?"

"No, I drove over here."

"Mind if I hitch a ride, then?" He smiled, earning a confused expression.

"If you have a ride, why ask me for one?"

"I have my skateboard, love, not a car."

He nearly burst out laughing at the face she made next. It was a cross between anger and confusion.

"Fine, whatever, I'll drop you off." Emma spoke with the wave of her hand, packing her things up.

"Really?"

"Look, you need to stop doing—" She spoke in a frustrated tone, motioning in Killian's direction, "—whatever this is."

"What are you going to do about it, love?" He grinned, leaning on the table.

Emma simply rolled her eyes at him before rising to her feet.

"I'm really not in the mood." She spoke carefully, as if to spare his feelings.

Killian really didn't know how to respond to that as she started towards the door. He grabbed his board and hurried to catch up with her, walking alongside her.

"What kind of car do you drive?" He asked curiously, smiling when the lights of an old VW Beetle lit up, "Oh, wow."

"It's a bit old, but…"

"No, this is an amazing car." Killian chuckled, sliding into the passenger seat, "Where'd you get it?"

Her expression changed, offering a clearly fake smile to Killian.

"It's an old family car." She replied as she started the old car.

Killian nodded, smiling at the song that was playing on the radio. He started thrumming his fingers on his thigh as Emma began driving.

"Where do you live?"

"Why, Swan, we're moving too fast—"

"I told you, Killian, I'm really not in the mood." Emma snapped, making Killian bite his lip.

"The apartments across from the intramural fields." Killian replied, continuing to tap his fingers along with the beat.

"Look, I'm sorry I'm being snappy. I'm just…" Emma stopped herself there, causing Killian to furrow his brows.

"I know the feeling." He assured her, "I'm not offended by you, Swan."

"Good." She spoke with a small smile before turning her focus back to the road.

"I hope this isn't too far out of your way."

"It's not. I live just past your apartment buildings."

"Then, why do we come all the way out here for coffee? I own a coffee maker—and it makes cocoa." Killian said, smiling a little when Emma's cheeks reddened.

"Are you inviting me over?"

"I sure am." He grinned, "What do you say?"

"Maybe."

"I'll take it." He chuckled, not missing her quiet laugh.

It was silent for the duration of the ride, until Emma pulled up in front of the apartment complex.

"Thank you for the ride, Swan." Killian grinned, "So, Saturday morning, my place?"

"Um… Sure." Emma replied.

"I promise I'll clean up the place." He winked, making her laugh.

"Get out of the car." She laughed.

"Goodnight, Swan."

"Night, Jones." She replied with a smile Killian hoped he'd be able to see more of soon. It was beautiful.

Killian opened the door and slipped out of the car, waving once more as she drove away. He walked to the entrance, stifling a yawn as he used his student card to unlock the door. He waved to one of the guys on his floor as he walked in, strolling to the elevator. He was too lazy to take the stairs.

And, he needed more time to think about Swan before he got back up to his room, where some of the team was likely to be. He couldn't stop thinking about the way she finally laughed. He'd been waiting for that, and now that he'd gotten it, he couldn't help but want more.

The elevator dinged open, and Killian smiled to the brunette he vaguely remembered meeting at a party (she lived on the top floor—if he remembered correctly from that party, she was loud and clingy) as she came out of the elevator. He stepped in and pressed his floor button before leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes.

The image of Swan just smiling was burned into his mind, and he couldn't find it in himself to open his eyes again, for fear that the image would disappear forever.

"Killian? What are you doing?" August's voice asked, snapping Killian from his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see his friend standing just outside of the elevator, at the water fountain.

"Nothing. I'm fucking exhausted." He sighed, pushing himself off the wall and walking past August.

"Well, the guys and I are playing Mario Kart in your living room, and you're welcome to join us."

"And let me kick all of your asses? I hardly think that's fair." Killian smirked, walking alongside his friend towards his room.

"You're on, Jones." August grinned, hurrying into the room where most of the team was hooting and hollering.

_It's good to be home_, Killian thought as he walked in.

* * *

><p>After a few resounding wins, Killian made an excuse to hide away in his room with homework. He flopped onto his bed, staring right into the ugly florescent lighting, then wincing and closing his eyes. Bad idea.<p>

He rolled on his side and stuck his phone on his iHome, sliding his finger across the bottom and unlocking it. He immediately went to his music and pressed 'shuffle', hoping something decent would come up.

Killian laid back down as soon as he turned his phone screen off, closing his eyes and relaxing, only to realize that the song playing on his phone was the one that was playing in the car with Swan.

That alone made the corners of his lips turn up, wondering if Swan liked the song. He was nearly positive that every woman on the planet enjoyed Maroon 5, so it was likely. But, it was then that Killian didn't know much about her. He didn't know her favorite song, her favorite color, her favorite anything.

He decided that would be the next topic of discussion on Saturday. Killian was already coming along pretty well on his paper (that wasn't even due until Monday), so he figured maybe as a break, they could—

Whoa, what was he thinking? He wasn't the kind of guy who sat around and asked girls questions about their favorite things—he did other things with them.

Swan was different. He even felt different around her. A feeling he hadn't felt since—

Nope. He couldn't think of her again. He shook his head, as if to physically shake the thoughts away, and focus on the next song that played. Some song by Lordy, or whatever her name was. He was beginning to think Grace hijacked his phone.

Regardless, he left the song playing, closing his eyes before sitting up again. He figured he ought to text Swan before he fell completely asleep. Why he felt this way, he wasn't so sure.


	12. She Will Be Loved

_A/N: See? Now we're getting somewhere! Just trust me :) Hope you all are still enjoying this journey—there are many bumps to come!_

_Listening to: 'She Will Be Loved' & 'Won't Go Home Without You' by Maroon 5, along with the lovely acoustic version of 'Burning Bridges' by OneRepublic. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Emma sighed as she leaned against the door, closing it. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back for only a few moments before taking a few steps and toeing off her shoes in the process.<p>

"Long tutoring session?" Mary asked from the couch, glancing up from her laptop.

"Long day." Emma spoke with a tired smile, "I've been running around all day."

She walked over to fall beside Mary, smiling as she saw Mary was editing a photo from the beach. It was a picture Emma had taken of Mary and David walking towards her, the water lapping at their feet. Their smiles were absolutely genuine as they looked into each other's eyes. Emma would gag at the sappiness, but even she couldn't deny that the couple was adorable.

"Hey, that's a really good picture of you two." Emma smiled, "You look so happy."

"I can't even tell you, Emma." Mary giggled, fixing the brightness a little, "He's my world. I don't know what I'd do without David."

"I don't know what I'd do without either of you." Emma replied, "You two are like my parents."

"Aww." Mary smiled as Emma settled her head on her shoulder, "You really are tired if you're getting all sappy on me."

"Like I said, it's been a long day."

"Well, how did the session with Killian go?" Mary asked.

"Actually… Kind of really well." Emma said, raising her eyebrows, "He, um, bought me a cocoa, and we actually got work done. I got some information about the team for the column, and he got a pretty decent outline done."

Emma looked up to see Mary's surprised reaction, making Emma laugh.

"Really."

"Really. He's… I don't know. He seemed different tonight." Emma shrugged.

"Oh?" Mary asked with a smile, "Do tell."

"It's nothing major, I mean, he saw I was having a bad day and bought me a hot cocoa, then when I told him I wasn't in the mood for his usual quips, he just kind of… backed down." Emma replied, furrowing her brows, "It was weird."

"Maybe he likes you."

"Doubtful." Emma scoffed, "Besides, I do not want to date that."

"Emma, you know not every guy is like—"

"I know." Emma snapped, "I don't need to be reminded."

"You are in a crappy mood, aren't you?" Mary asked softly, tightening her grip on Emma's shoulder.

"Yeah." Emma spoke nearly inaudibly.

"Are you thinking about him?"

"No, that's not the problem." Emma sighed, "I'm just in a rut right now."

"Well, David said the Lost Boys have another game tomorrow—maybe you could go and support Killian and Graham." Mary suggested, "I think we were planning on going, if you wanted to tag along."

"I guess I could… I could at least write some more." Emma shrugged.

"See? Perfect!" Mary grinned, "We'll go support them, then."

Emma let out a quiet laugh, nodding.

"Okay, I'll go."

"Really?" Mary asked incredulously.

"Why not? I have nothing else to do on a Friday evening. Might as well get out of the apartment." Emma replied, "But, for now, I need to get some rest."

"You go do that. Hopefully your day will be better tomorrow!"

"Thank you. I hope it is, too." Emma sighed, lifting herself off the couch and walking to her room. She shut the door behind herself and walked to her bed, sitting on it before lying down with a sigh.

She ached to the bone, causing her to close her eyes to try and rid the pain (which didn't work). She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, causing her to groan as she reached for it. She brought it to her face, only to see Killian's name pop up in her messages.

_Killian: I hope your night is going better than it was before. And, I don't apologize often, but I am truly sorry for making you late to class earlier._

Emma raised a brow at the seemingly sweet message, unsure if he was the one who actually sent it.

_Emma: You don't understand the level of aching my body is at right now. I'm pretty sure I'm in the seventh circle of Hell. Also, I forgive you. I wasn't that late, I guess._

_Killian: Seventh circle of Hell? That's pretty intense, Swan. Do you need medical aid?_

Emma laughed out loud at that one before pressing her hand to her lips.

_Emma: Okay, maybe it's the sixth circle._

_Killian: Oh, that's better._

_Emma: So, thank you for the cocoa earlier._

_Killian: You've thanked me already, Swan._

_Emma: I know, I just… People don't usually do things like that for me._

_Killian: I don't see why not. You're nice… enough._

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. Of course he'd ruin it with only one text.

_Emma: Haha, hilarious._

_Killian: Kidding. It was nothing, though. You were clearly having a rough day. Figured I'd try to make amends for earlier._

_Emma: Well, thank you for noticing._

_Killian: Any time._

_Emma: So, I think I'm going to your game tomorrow._

_Killian; Oh, yeah? With who?_

Emma was about to type out Mary and David, but she realized he didn't know them.

_Emma: Two friends. We're all friends of Graham._

She realized as soon as she texted it that maybe it wasn't the right thing to say. But, before she could correct it, Killian had texted back.

_Killian: Ah, yes, Boy Wonder._

_Emma: Do you really call him that?_

_Killian: We all have a bunch of ridiculous names for each other. Kind of like a pack thing._

Emma felt her heart clench a little. She loved her little group, but… they didn't have special nicknames like that. Maybe it was because they were all boys—her group consisted of Mary, Ruby and poor David. It was a bit different, she supposed.

_Emma: I see._

_Killian: Well, I ought to get some sleep. A boy's gotta be ready to throw down._

_Emma: Uh-huh. See you tomorrow, then._

_Killian: Goodnight, Swan._

Emma couldn't fight the smile that appeared on her lips.

_Emma: Props to you, making me smile on a shitty day. Night._

She smiled again as she closed out her messages and set her phone on its charger. Time to get pajamas on and relax.

* * *

><p>Emma could not believe she was standing in those damn bleachers again. They'd left a little earlier this time, so they could get better seats than the ones she and David were stuck with the previous time.<p>

With better seats came better vision. Emma was able to watch every single move of each player—though her eyes were permanently set on either Graham or Killian. But, when they were both on the field, Emma couldn't help but find her eyes drifting to Killian. He was just so good.

The way he seamlessly wove in between the other players and scored—he made it look easy. Though, Emma was sure it wasn't. He clearly had spent hours practicing on spinning like that, darting between and around bodies like clockwork. And it worked every time.

Not that Emma was counting, but Killian scored at least six goals. From what she knew about sports, that was a lot. After the third quarter, he was out of the game, and even then, Emma couldn't keep her eyes off him. He took off his shirt as soon as he took his padding off (of course), and Emma nearly gasped.

"Are you okay?" Mary asked. Apparently she had gasped.

"Oh, um, yes, I'm fine." Emma grinned, brushing a curl behind her ear, "Just, uh, watching the game, taking notes."

Mary tried leaning over to read the notes, only for Emma to pull the notebook close to her chest.

"They're winning—hey, look, Graham's back out there!" Mary grinned, pointing to Number Fourteen out on the field. Emma smiled and cheered as her friends did, not commenting on the suspicious look she was receiving from David.

She knew she'd have to deal with that later.

Graham was the goalie, so he didn't have the opportunities that Killian did to show off his swiftness. But, she still didn't let it slip past her view that his arms and legs were incredible. She clearly hadn't noticed them enough before.

"Whoa, that save!" David chuckled as he clapped, before setting his hand on Mary's back as she walked away (Emma assumed she'd said something when she wasn't paying attention).

"Oh, yeah, that was awesome!" Emma shouted, "C'mon, Lost Boys!"

David raised a brow at her, making her laugh.

"What?"

"You're never excited about sports." David smirked. Emma furrowed her brows and hit his arm, offering a flat smile.

"Want my opinion?" He asked.

"Not really." Emma laughed.

"Well, I'm going to give it to you anyways," David replied with a smile, "I think Graham likes you."

What? He didn't like her—they were just friends. Really good friends.

"No."

"Emma, I've seen the way he looks at you—hell, I've seen the way he talks to you."

"Graham? He's like… He's like my brother." Emma sputtered, "Like you are."

"No, no, don't give me that." David grinned, "He'd be good for you, Ems. He's a good guy."

Emma bit her lip. Something… something didn't seem right with it. She glanced back to the field, watching him jump to block a shot.

"David…"

"It's just my opinion, Emma. I'm not saying you have to do anything, I just… He'd be good for you."

* * *

><p><em>Good for you.<em> Those words rang in Emma's ear for the rest of the night, up until the entirety of the bleachers rushed the field. David and Mary dragged her to the field, laughter and sweat filling the air. She looked around, though she didn't know for who or what.

"Emma!" A voice called—Killian's, she thought—until she turned around and saw Graham hurrying towards her.

"Hey, great game!" She laughed as he ran towards her. As soon as he got close enough, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground, causing her to shriek.

"Graham!" She laughed as he spun her around, "Put me down!"

He set her down with a smile, making her laugh.

"You played really well." She giggled.

"Yeah? You thought so?" Graham grinned, sweaty and out of breath.

"I mean, yeah, from what I know about lacrosse." Emma smiled, looking around, "Look, I've gotta get going—I'll, um, see you Monday?"

"I have to go the whole weekend without you?" Graham grinned, "At least tell me you're coming to the game tomorrow?"

"You guys have another one tomorrow? How many damn games do you play during the week?" Emma laughed, shaking her head and meeting his eyes again.

"Usually not this many. Next week we only have two." Graham smiled, "So, tomorrow?"

"Why not." Emma replied, "See you tomorrow."

"Have a good one, Emma." He grinned before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Emma, David and I were going to go grab something to eat—want to come with?" Mary's voice asked from behind. Emma whipped her head around, smiling to her best friends.

"Of course." Emma smiled, "I'd love to."

She linked arms with the two, laughing as they started back towards the car. She glanced back and caught Killian's eyes, a blush creeping up her cheek as he smirked to her. What an idiot.


	13. O, Captain, Our Captain!

_A/N: I think I've broken a record—this is officially my longest chapter, I believe! Exploring Killian's relationships with all of the guys is always fun for me, since they all aren't friends on the show!_

_I had a few songs on repeat during this writing sesh: 'Losing Sleep' by John Newman, 'Something I Need' by OneRepublic, & 'Emma's Song' from the OUAT soundtrack. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Killian was just glad they'd won the damn game. He was exhausted by the end of it, his body still not entirely caught up from the last game. Luckily, he played well enough, scored enough points to know his team was okay by the third quarter. He couldn't play past that.<p>

"Killian!" Grace's voice exclaimed as he stood talking with another player by the bench. He immediately smiled and bent down to her level as she came running towards him, her arms open.

"Gracie, you don't want to hug this—I'm all sweaty and gross." Killian chuckled, offering his hand for a fist bump instead. Her face scrunched together in concentration as she hit his knuckles as hard as she could.

"You were so good, Killy!" She beamed.

"You think so? I'm exhausted." Killian chuckled.

"Mm. You and Jeff played really good."

Killian was about to correct her when he realized that Swan was rubbing off on him. He wasn't really sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Thanks, Grace." Killian smiled.

"Do you know where Jeff is?"

"Over there, love." Killian replied, pointing over to where Jefferson was talking with some girl Killian didn't recognize. She bounded away, causing him to chuckle.

Swan. He heard her name called, causing him to stand up. He glanced around for her, only to see her blonde hair spun around by none other than… Graham.

Right. She'd said something about coming to the game with friends and seeing him. Not Killian. That hurt a little more than Killian thought it should. Or would, for that matter. Why should he care who Swan hung out with?

He watched her talk to his friend, finally seeing her smile again. It had only been a day, but her smile was something… Well, Killian wasn't sure what it was. He knew he wanted to see more of it.

The more he watched her smile at Graham, though, the harder he felt his heart clench. He grabbed his things off the bench and started back towards his apartment. He didn't need to deal with feelings like that—he should be enjoying the fact that they won.

But, all he could think of was his Swan.

* * *

><p>Killian was immersed in conversation when his phone buzzed on the table. He raised a brow, wondering who the hell could be texting him. All of his friends were sitting at the table with him in the usual post-game restaurant.<p>

"Who're you texting?" Victor teased.

"Oh, shut up." Killian chuckled with the roll of his eyes as he lifted his phone to read the message.

"Is it from one of your flings?" Jefferson teased, giving him a shove.

"You know I never text them back." Killian grinned, his smile only dropping when he read the name. Swan.

_Swan: Hey, I was just wondering what time you wanted me over tomorrow morning._

Killian couldn't help but smirk at the text, glancing around the table and assuring that his friends had begun another conversation before texting her back.

_Killian: Ah, you do want to come over._

_Swan: Never said I did, just figured it was easier for both of us._

_Killian: Alright, I'll pretend I don't notice that you're trying to get closer to me._

_Swan: Shut up, you offered free coffee. I'm all for that._

_Killian: Right._

He smiled and set his phone down, before realizing that Jefferson and Grace would probably be there.

_Killian: Hey, you wouldn't mind if my roommate was around, would you? He's clean, honest._

_Swan: Why would I care?_

_Killian: I don't know, love. I don't know a lot about you. Maybe you don't like roommates._

_Swan: I have two—I'd like to think I like them._

That made him laugh, causing his friends to look at him.

"What?" He asked.

"Do you like Emma?" Graham teased, and Killian tried his hardest not to blush. He was a grown-ass man, he shouldn't be blushing about anything to begin with.

"Oi, mate, seriously? She's stubborn as hell." Killian chuckled, rubbing his mouth afterwards, knowing that, though it was true, he kind of liked her stubbornness.

"I think you'll come around. She's a great girl." Graham smiled.

"When do we have the pleasure of meeting this Emma?"

"Probably never. She's just my tutor." Killian shrugged, motioning to Graham, "Unless Boy Wonder over here wants to introduce you all to her."

The whole table 'ooo'd as Killian sat back with a smug smile, watching Graham's face redden.

_That's what you get, Humbert._

Killian felt his phone vibrate in his hand, notifying him that Emma had texted him not once, but twice.

_Swan: Hey, time for tomorrow morning?_

_Swan: Seriously, time?_

_Killian: Calm down, Princess. How's 10?_

_Swan: Fine. And don't call me that._

_Killian: We've been through this, Swan._

_Swan: Whatever. How do I get into your building?_

_Killian: Don't you worry. I'll let you in._

_Swan: Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, then._

_Killian: Of course, Swan._

Killian smiled at the last texts before turning his attention back to his idiotic friends who were all picking on poor Graham now. That's what he got for messing with the Team Captain.

"You guys are all a bunch of idiots." Killian chuckled, shaking his head and tossing back what was left of his Coke.

"But, you love us, right?" Jefferson smiled, batting his lashes and making Killian nearly spit out his drink.

"And I believe my point has been made clear." He laughed, "I couldn't imagine a better team, though. You guys are my family."

"Getting sappy on us, Killian?" August grinned, shoving a fry into his mouth.

"Of course not. I'm your captain." Killian chuckled, leaning back in his seat with a smug smile.

"You heard him—on your feet for the captain!" Jefferson exclaimed, causing Killian took inhale sharply—he knew exactly where this was going.

Of course they'd do it in a public place.

"O Captain, my Captain!" Jefferson shouted, the whole team following him in rising to stand on their chairs. Their hands shot to their foreheads, saluting their captain. Killian shook his head at the boys, secretly enjoying every second of it.

"O Captain, our Captain!" They all chanted, but this time, Killian was tugged up by his arm, looking up to see Jefferson pulling him up. The boys all hopped off their chairs, standing and saluting to Killian, who took an exaggerated bow.

The restaurant erupted in laughter and claps for the boys, making Killian laugh harder as he sat back down in his seat.

"You are all a bunch of dumbasses, seriously." He laughed, his stomach beginning to hurt from all of the laughter.

"You love us, though."

"Of course I do. I don't know what I'd do without my best mates." Killian grinned, raising his now-empty glass, "To the Lost Boys!"

The boys all raised their glasses, despite how much of anything was in them, all chanting the 'bangarang' made so popular in _Hook_. It was a noise that made Killian endlessly proud, knowing that these ragtag boys made an amazing team.

He couldn't remember a time he'd felt prouder than in that moment.

* * *

><p>Later, as he laid in bed, Killian stared at the ceiling (deciding that since it was becoming a regular thing, he ought to start putting something up there for him to actually look at). He wasn't really thinking about anything, honestly, just staring.<p>

And he didn't know why.

He peeled his eyes from the popcorn ceiling, glancing to his clock. 2:35 AM. His body was aching for some sleep, just to rest, but his mind was negating all of that. Though he felt like he wasn't thinking of anything, his mind was going through everything. Liam, the team, Ireland, school, sex, music, Swan—and that's when he sat up like a rod.

Why was he thinking of Swan at 2:35 in the morning? Most people don't think of their tutor at that time of night. Most people aren't up thinking at that time of night, either, he figured. But, maybe Swan was.

_Killian: Swan?_

It took a few minutes, but he got a response.

_Swan: Killian? Why the hell are you texting me at 2:30?_

_Killian: I can't sleep._

_Swan: And I'm your mother now? Need me to come tuck you in?_

Killian chuckled at that one.

_Killian: You weren't sleeping either._

The three little dots indicating that she was typing appeared and stayed for about a minute before he received the next text.

_Swan: No._

_Killian: You typed out some long paragraph and deleted it, didn't you?_

_Swan: What?_

_Killian: The little ellipses was sitting there for a solid minute, love. All you typed was 'no'._

_Swan: It doesn't matter. _

_Killian: Do you ever get a song stuck in your head?_

_Swan: That better not be what this is about. But, yes, I know the feeling._

_Killian: No, no, it's not. Not really._

_Swan: What song?_

_Killian: Hm?_

_Swan: What song do you have stuck in your head?_

He pursed his lips, wondering if she even remembered what song was playing when she drove him home.

_Killian: Uh, something about being loved. It's by Maroon 5._

_Swan: She Will Be Loved?_

_Killian: Aye, that's it!_

_Swan: Interesting._

_Killian: The hell is that supposed to mean?_

_Swan: I didn't think you'd like Maroon 5._

_Killian: Never said I did, just said the song was stuck in my head._

_Swan: Well, for the record, I like Maroon 5._

_Killian: Do you? Then, I definitely don't._

_Swan: If I could punch you through my phone, I would._

_Killian: I'll allow you to tomorrow morning, just this once._

_Swan: Wow, how generous of you._

Killian chuckled at that remark, rubbing a hand down his face before deciding what to type out in response.

_Killian: I'm very generous, if you know what I mean ;)_

_Swan: … Ew._

_Killian: You just killed it._

_Swan: You mean nothing?_

_Killian: Damn, Swan. You're spicy even at 2:40 in the morning._

_Swan: Yeah, yeah, I'm spicy, whatever. I'd like to go back to the Maroon 5 thing for a second—is it stuck in your head because it was on the radio when I dropped you off a few days ago?_

Damn, she was on to him.

_Killian: Maybe._

_Swan: It's been stuck in mine, too. It's actually one of my favorite songs._

_Killian: Interesting._

_Swan: Wow, stealing my line._

_Killian: You know it._

He could practically see her rolling her eyes, which made him smile.

_Swan: You're insufferable._

_Killian: I've been told._

_Swan: Do you have a favorite song?_

_Killian: Just one?_

_Swan: Yes, just one._

_Killian: Give me a minute._

Killian had to think long and hard before he could come up with an answer for Swan. He loved a lot of songs—many held a special place in his heart.

_Killian: Honestly? Howlin' For You, Black Keys. It plays at the lacrosse games and it gets me totally in the zone._

_Swan: That's funny._

_Killian: Care to tell me why?_

_Swan: I hate that song._

What the hell, Swan?

_Killian: Swan, I don't know if we can continue this friendship any longer._

_Swan: What? I don't know, it's not my kind of music, I guess._

_Killian: Then, pray-tell, what is your kind?_

_Swan: Wouldn't you like to know?_

_Killian: Perhaps I would._

_Swan: Fine. I listen to Mumford & Sons, that kind of music._

Killian was a bit surprised by that—mountain music? She didn't seem like the type.

_Killian: Mountain music?_

_Swan: Okay, nope. We're done talking._

_Killian: Touchy!_

_Swan: You insulted my favorite band!_

_Killian: You insulted my favorite song!_

_Swan: I'm done with this conversation._

_Killian: But, I'm still wide awake._

_Swan: Can't you go bother Graham, or something?_

_Killian: You're so much more fun to poke at._

Swan didn't reply. After a few minutes, Killian decided to try again.

_Killian: Sorry, love. Didn't mean it, honest._

_Killian: Swan?_

_Killian: Now, you're just ignoring me._

_Swan: GO TO SLEEP, JONES._

Killian chuckled and nodded, typing out one last response.

_Killian: As you wish._

He fell back onto his bed, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. He opened one eye and set his phone on the charger before trying to fall asleep again.


	14. Bare Bones

_A/N: So, I lied. This is officially the longest chapter to date. It's a huge one, sorry. But, I think it's a pretty good one!_

_Anyways, for your listening pleasure, I suggest Surviving Allison's first EP—specifically the songs 'Ghost in the Jukebox' and 'Bullets in My Bones'._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Emma had been waiting for fifteen minutes. He still hadn't come down, even though she'd texted him at least three times. So, she figured she'd better call him.<p>

One, two, three rings before he answered.

"_Oh, Swan, I overslept—I'll be down in a sec_." Killian spoke frantically, and with that, his voice was gone.

Emma groaned, leaning on the back of the bench. God, it was hot outside. He needed to hurry his ass up. She looked up to the sun that was brightly shining that morning, because of course it would be when she had to wait outside.

She heard the door open, and she rose to her feet.

"Sorry, Swan." Killian spoke with what seemed like a truly sincere grin, holding the door open for her.

"It's fine, I'm just dying of heat out here." She teased, walking into the significantly cooler building. She let out a sigh as she followed Killian to the elevator.

There was a thick air of silence between them until the elevator came, and Emma followed him in.

"I'm sorry again I was late."

"It's fine."

"No, I told you I'd be down there at ten." Killian spoke roughly, rubbing a hand down his face, "Will coffee make it up to you?"

Emma smiled at that, offering a nod.

"Yeah, I think coffee might be a reasonable apology." Emma smiled.

"Good." Killian smiled back, "And, if I'm being honest, I'm surprised you waited as long as you did."

"If you didn't answer your phone I would have gone to Gold and cut the whole damn thing off." Emma scoffed.

"Oh, really?" Killian grinned, "I doubt you'd do that."

Emma raised an eyebrow. He clearly didn't know her well enough.

"Don't test it." Emma warned as the elevator opened. He allowed her to go first, making her roll her eyes.

"Oh, so you're a gentleman now?"

"I'm sorry for asking, but what the hell has gotten into you?" Killian asked, stopping her at the beginning of the hallway by her arm. She was quick to rip it from his grasp. The hell did he think he was doing?

"Nothing." Emma replied, meeting his eyes for only a few seconds before flickering them away.

"No, don't 'nothing' me." Killian scolded, "If we're going to make it through this month, we're going to have to get along."

"That was never in the contract." Emma snapped pointing her finger at him, "The only thing I have to do is get your grade up in your class."

She could tell that struck something in him, given the way his features softened. Emma regretted saying it, and was close to apologizing before he spoke again.

"Fine. Let's go get some work done, then." Killian spoke shortly, turning on his heel and walking down the hall.

What the hell was that? Emma rolled her eyes and followed the drama queen down the hall, stopping a few feet behind him when he unlocked the door.

"Killian!" A girl's voice exclaimed as soon as he opened the door.

Emma was confused—unless she had some serious issues, it definitely wasn't a college student's voice. When she walked in, she was surprised to see a girl with caramel colored hair hugging Killian tightly, a smile wide on her lips.

"Who's this, Killy?" She asked, looking up to Emma, who couldn't help but smile. The girl was adorable, she'd give her that.

Killian tugged away and turned to face Emma, gesturing to her.

"Gracie, this is Emma." He spoke with a smile, "And Emma, this is Grace."

Who was this girl? He didn't mention a little sister—and he definitely wasn't old enough to have a daughter her age.

"You're really pretty." Grace smiled up to her, making Emma giggle. She felt Killian's eyes on her, making her cheeks redden as she bent down and shook Grace's hand.

"Thank you!" Emma grinned, "You are, too. I love your braid."

"I did it all by myself this morning." She replied proudly, and Emma could hear Killian's chuckle beside her, "Maybe I could do it to your hair later!"

"Grace—" Another voice spoke, causing Emma to look up to see who she assumed was Killian's roommate.

"She's not causing any problems, Jeff." Killian chuckled as Grace ran to the other man, "Emma, this is Jefferson, my roommate. Jefferson, this is Emma."

"Ah, so you're the lovely Emma the boys and I hear so much about." Jefferson teased, causing Emma to laugh. Killian's face was priceless. Finally, he was caught entirely off-guard.

"Believe me, anything they hear comes from Graham." Killian sputtered.

"I'm sure." Emma giggled, shaking Jefferson's hand, "Nice to meet you."

"You as well." Jefferson smiled, "I'll try to keep Grace out of your hair so you can study."

Ah, so she was Jefferson's sister. She could see it. They had the same bluish-green eyes—though, Jefferson's looked… sadder.

"She's fine." Emma grinned, watching Grace hurry to the couch, dragging Jefferson along with her.

"Would you like some coffee?" Killian asked, a smile on his face. Damn, he knew how to put up a façade.

"Please." Emma smiled, following him to sit at the bar.

Emma watched him prepare the coffee over the next few minutes, focusing on his biceps. She guessed she hadn't noticed them before—but, she definitely could now in the tank he donned.

"What do you like in your coffee, Swan?" He asked coolly, turning to face her, mug in hand.

"Just cream." Emma spoke with a tight smile.

"That's simple enough." Killian smiled back, filling the mug with coffee, then grabbing the creamer from the fridge.

"Killian, I'm sorry for snapping at you." Emma spoke softly, so that neither Jefferson nor Grace could hear.

"No need, love." Killian smiled, handing her the mug, "I shouldn't have been late."

She smiled as she brought the mug to her lips, taking in the warmth. She took a long sip—he'd managed to make it perfectly.

"You should be a barista."

"That good?" Killian laughed.

"It's perfect." Emma giggled.

Emma took another drink of it, watching Killian drink his own over the edge of her mug. She smiled a little before setting her mug on the counter.

"So, when do we start?" She asked.

"We can go into my room and you can look over my paper—I, uh, fixed it a little since we last met."

Emma raised a quizzical brow. That didn't seem like a Killian move. But, she knew he was being honest.

"Okay, I'll take another look at it." She smiled, slipping off the barstool and following him into his room.

It looked just as Emma had imagined it would. There were movie posters and band posters all over the walls, and Emma only recognized a few of the bands. His bed was sloppily made, the red sheets half on the bed, nearly touching the floor. His desk at the end of his bed was unusually tidy, all of his notebooks stacked in the top left corner and his pens all in their own place.

"Sorry my room's a bit messy." Killian chuckled, "You're welcome to sit on the bed."

Emma raised a brow at him. Really?

"Okay, fine, sit at my desk, I'll bring a chair in." He chuckled, "Didn't think you were so prudent, Swan."

"I'm not." Emma replied as he walked out of the room, waiting for him to come back before responding, "I didn't want to sit on your bed because you sleep there."

"So?" Killian chuckled, sitting on the chair and motioning for Emma to sit at his desk. She followed, mimicking him as she sat down across from him.

"I don't know, I don't usually sit on beds of people I don't know all that well. Beds are kind of... personal." Emma shrugged. She felt his eyes on hers, causing her to meet them. He was searching for something, and the idea of that made her stomach suddenly feel cold.

She adjusted her shirt before clearing her throat.

"Where's your paper so I can look over it?" Emma asked, setting up her laptop.

"I'll pull it up, give me a second, Swan." He chuckled, grabbing his laptop from his bag and opening it.

Emma waited for only a few minutes before Killian was handing her his laptop. He was working on a non-fiction piece, and from what Emma had read the previous time, it had gotten much, much better.

"This is actually really good." Emma said as she read it, tapping her fingers against her lips.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm impressed." She smiled, "Where'd you get this idea from? It's totally different than what you were writing."

"I know. I, um…. It's one of my own experiences." Killian admitted, causing Emma to look to him.

The story was about a terrible car accident. A boy and a girl were coming back from a school dance, and a semi t-boned their car, killing the girl on impact and leaving the boy with a multitude of injuries.

"Wait, really?" Emma asked.

"Yeah." Killian sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. Emma noticed his tattoo again, realizing that the girl was Milah.

"Milah." Emma spoke softly, her breath catching when he nodded, "Oh, Killian, I… I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." Killian said, shaking his head, "I can't do anything to change the past."

Emma furrowed her brows as she watched him close his eyes tight, clearly remembering the incident. She had to do something, something in her gut was telling her to. Her walls were still up, holding strong, but Killian's confession struck something inside of her. Emma hadn't ever told him something as personal as that, and for that, she felt she owed him the empathy.

"I've been in and out of foster homes since I was born." She admitted, a fact only a few people knew about her. Killian raised his head and met her eyes, causing the pit in her stomach to tighten.

"Swan—"

"No, hear me out." Emma interrupted, "I had a family until I was three, then… They had a new kid, and I was traded out. From then on, I was placed into a different home on a nearly yearly basis. And, with that, I may or may not have gotten into a lot of trouble with the police a few times. I don't know… I just, I know what it feels like, to lose yourself."

Killian simply stared at her, processing all of the information she'd given him.

"It seems as if we're more alike than we thought, Swan." Killian spoke with a sad smile.

"Maybe we are." Emma replied, returning the smile.

"To lighten the mood, why don't we play more of that game we played when we first met to study?" Killian suggested. Emma sighed, then shrugged her shoulders, closing his laptop.

"Why not." Emma replied, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Favorite color." Killian said.

"That's a stupid first question."

"No, it's not. Everyone has a favorite color." Killian grinned, making Emma bite back a smile. For someone as annoying as he was, he surely knew how to make a girl smile.

"Red." She admitted, "You?"

"Black or red." He shrugged, "See? We share that in common."

"We do." Emma laughed, adjusting again. The chair wasn't too comfortable.

"Why don't we sit on the bed? I promise it's clean." Killian smiled, seemingly reading her mind (though, she guessed it was because she'd shifted in her seat at least ten times in the past three minutes), getting up from his seat and moving to the bed. Emma rolled her eyes and followed, climbing up onto his bed, being careful with her coffee mug and sitting with her legs crossed, at least three feet from him.

"Happy now?" Emma asked, leaning against the cool, brick wall, and taking a long sip of her coffee.

"Very." He grinned, "Your turn."

Emma pursed her lips as she thought of a question before smiling to him.

"Favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Anything." He chuckled, "But, uh, probably Rocky Road. You?"

"Mint Chocolate Chip." She smiled.

"Favorite animal?"

"Hmm…" Emma had to think about that one. "A swan."

"Ah, should have guessed." Killian chuckled in response, "I quite like sharks."

"Sharks?"

"Love, you said swans. Neither of us are in the right to judge here." He spoke with a smug smile, making Emma grin.

"Fine." She replied, pursing her lips in concentration, "Um… I can't think of another question."

"Oh, come on." Killian grinned, reaching across the bed to gently punch her shoulder, "You can think of something."

"Favorite movie?"

"Oh, that's tough, Swan!" He exclaimed, leaning his head back, closing his eyes, "Hm. Maybe Pirates of the Caribbean."

"Which one?"

"I have to pick a favorite of those?" He gasped, earning a laugh from Emma.

"Fine, fine." She grinned, her cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling and laughing, "My favorite is… Breakfast Club, probably."

"Ah, a lovely choice." Killian grinned.

Maybe she could get along with him better than she had previously expected.

* * *

><p>The two talked for a few more hours before they decided to get back to doing actual work. Emma helped Killian revise a few final things in his paper before he helped her flesh out the beginnings of a full-blown article in the school's paper on the team (Regina had decided that was a better fit than just a column, given the time they had to work on it).<p>

Regardless, it ended with both teenagers asleep on Killian's bed. Emma woke up after Killian had, her eyes still closed. She heard typing close by, and opened a single eye to see Killian's laptop. She was lying at his side, his arm draped around her shoulder.

Emma's body was begging her, screaming at her to move, but she was so comfortable right where she was. He was so, so warm, and though she knew he probably had rock-hard abs, his side was incredibly soft. It didn't feel forced, or wrong. It felt safe. And safety was something Emma didn't know well.

"Ah, there's the Sleeping Beauty." Killian chuckled, moving his arm, "How'd you sleep?"

"Um, fine, I guess." She replied, finally sitting up straight and distancing herself from Killian's warmth a little, "How long were we asleep?"

"Well, you fell asleep before I did, which was around one. It's three o'clock right now, so about two hours."

"Damn."

"Didn't sleep well either last night, I take it?"

"No, I didn't." Emma sighed, rubbing her eyes, "I've, um, got to get going. I promised my roommates I'd go shopping with them today."

With that, she checked her phone, seeing that the two had blown up her phone. _Really, Mary? Eighteen texts?_

"Ah, well, okay." Killian replied, sitting up straighter, "I do have one question for you, Swan."

"Yeah?" Emma asked her stomach tying itself in knots. She stretched once before slipping off the bed and watching as Killian followed, setting his laptop back onto his bed.

"The boys and I are going to a club this weekend, if you'd like to come. Maybe you could bring your friends?" Killian smiled.

"A club?" Emma asked with raised brows, "None of us are—"

"August's dad owns it. He's got a lounge in the back—he doesn't let any of us drive home after we've spent the night drinking." Killian grinned, "If you don't want to, please, don't worry about it. I was simply offering."

"No, actually… I think my friends would probably like to get out." Emma smiled, "And, since I've met your roommate, now you can meet my two roommates."

"Aye, I'd like to meet the two women who put up with you." He chuckled, "I'll, uh, let you know when we're planning on going."

"Hilarious," Emma scoffed, fighting a smile, "Sounds good."

"When are we doing this again?"

"Um… Is Tuesday okay?"

"Tuesday is fine." He grinned, "See you tonight?"

"I promised Graham I'd be there, so, yeah. See you tonight." Emma smiled, leaving his room.

"Swan, you left your bag." Killian called after her, making her close her eyes and smile.

"Thank you." She giggled as she walked back into the room, grabbing her satchel from Killian's hand.

"Of course. See you around, Swan."

"See you later." Emma replied, hurrying to grab her phone from her pocket as she felt it buzz again.

"_Emma Swan, where are you? I've been—_" Mary shrieked over the phone.

"Hey, calm down," Emma interrupted, walking down the hall, "I fell asleep at Killian's. I'm fine. Still on for—"

"_You fell asleep?"_

"I mean, yeah, we were working on stuff and I fell asleep on his bed."

Shit, not the right thing to say to Mary Margaret—

"_Emma!"_

"Don't 'Emma' me!" Emma exclaimed, pressing the button for the elevator, "We just fell asleep, it's not like I had sex with the guy!"

"_But, you told me you didn't like him!"_

"I don't! Not like that!"

"_I don't know, Ems, 'friends' don't usually fall asleep on beds together!"_ Mary shrieked.

"Please don't overcomplicate this, Mary." Emma sighed, stepping into the elevator, "I promise, it's nothing."

"_If you say so…"_

"Please, just let it go." Emma groaned, rolling her head before leveling it again, "Are you and Ruby still dragging me out shopping?"

"_Of course!_" Mary replied, and Emma could practically hear her smile, "_There's a huge sale at Topshop!"_

"Of course there is." Emma giggled, closing her eyes and shaking her head as the door dinged open. She took a step forward, bumping into a figure.

"Oh, sorry—Graham!" Emma grinned, "I didn't know you lived here."

"What brings you here, Miss Swan?" Graham smiled.

"Hold on—Mary, I'll be back soon, okay?"

"_Wait, Emma—"_ Emma hung up on her friend, tossing her phone into her bag.

"I, uh, I was tutoring Killian." Emma smiled, shaking her head.

"Oh, right, I'd forgotten about that." He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck, "Still coming to the game tonight?"

"Of course." Emma giggled, "I'd love to see you play again."

"I'd love to see you there." Graham smiled, maneuvering around her and backing up towards the elevator, "See you tonight, then!"

"See you then." Emma giggled, waving as she walked out of the building and back into the heat.


End file.
